


The Founders Four

by The_girlwholived



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Founders, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Medieval, f/f - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 77,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_girlwholived/pseuds/The_girlwholived
Summary: Scotland, December 984 AD: Four witches and wizards - Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff met in the lonely moors, and nothing would ever be the same. As time passed, their friendship was remembered, as was their powerful magic. But forgotten about was the love between two of the members, the love between Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff.





	1. Chapter 1

Over the years, many historians would wonder how the four founders of Hogwarts came to meet. Many wondered if they had been childhood friends, if they had been lovers or enemies, and theories were made and evidence was drawn until it became clear that nothing could be proven. But never in their wildest dreams could they have believed that they met the way they did, and the way it began; completely randomly and with a death threat.

_December, Scotland, 984 AD_

Rowena Ravenclaw straightened from her Apparation, and the cold Scottish wind bit into her cheeks immediately. She exhaled, looking around at the empty moor, sure that she should soon see the site that had haunted her dreams. A castle, her castle, her school, had stood proudly against the midnight blue sky, and she had apparated directly to the spot. "Miss? Excuse me, Miss?"

She heard the female voice call, and turned with surprise to see a girl, perhaps her own age, coming towards her over the rough moor. Her yellow robes were shabby, and looked as though they had been mended many times. She had warm brown eyes that were strangely familiar, a radiant smile, and golden curls that framed her face and tumbled down her back. Rowena found herself strangely breathless for a moment, as the girl slowed, brushing back a curl that had blown into her face and pulling her shawl tighter around herself. Her eyes were tired as though she had been travelling, and she looked slightly weary. "Miss?"

She regained her composure. It didn't do, as her nursemaid had always told her as a child, to forget one's composure. "It's Professor, actually," she said stiffly.

The girl blinked, then smiled again. "Professor, then. Excuse me, Professor, but might you know where Hogsmeade is? You see, I'm looking for work-"

Her voice had a sing song tint to it, an odd accent - Welsh, she thought.

"No idea," she said curtly. She did, actually, have a vague idea, but the idea of explaining it to somebody who probably had all the attention span of a brick was not appealing.

The smile faded slightly. "Oh."

_Walk away now, Rowena. Now_.

Distantly, she heard "What's your name?" escape her lips. Damn her curiosity. Rowena had seen those eyes in her dreams, but it meant nothing,

She looked surprised, and then gave that smile again. "Helga Hufflepuff, lady. Might I ask yours?"

"Professor Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Both our names are alliterated. I've always liked that. Has a lovely ring, don't you think?" Helga said, following her as she moved forward, trying to find the spot she had seen in her dream. Rowena was at a loss of what to do. Helga was like a little puppy, apparently thinking they were now friends, when she wished she would go away. Rowena worked alone, and it was the way things had always been. She didn't need any friends. She never had.

There came a distant call, carried over the windy moors from further away from the village. "I believe I see hope! Ladies, might you solve our plight?"

She sighed. Fey curse this bloody place. This was meant to be a secluded moor. A man roughly the size and shape of a bear was lumbering towards them, a sword slung over his shoulder, a crooked grin on his face. His hair and beard were almost as scarlet as his cloak, and his eyes were clear green. Behind him stood a slighter, thinner man in emerald robes, with dark hair, a pointed beard and cool grey eyes that regarded them. "Though I believe the question might be," he said, the grin growing wider. "What are two lovely ladies such as yourselves doing alone in such a place?"

Rowena scowled and went back to her wand.

"How do you do?" Helga asked politely. "I'm looking for Hogsmeade."

His grin grew wider. "Why so am I!" He bowed and kissed her hand, and she flushed a pretty shade of pink. "Godric Gryffindor, my lady."

His voice, now Rowena listened to it, had a distinct English accent.

"I'm no lady," she said, still flushing. "I'm just Helga Hufflepuff."

"You have the manners of one, my lady," he winked, and Helga giggled as Rowena was sickened.

"Stop flirting," the other said tiredly, coming forward. His voice was more lyrical, though still powerful. Gaelic, perhaps. "Truly, Mr Gryffindor, the sooner I return to my ship the better."

He had the air of someone who was used to his demands being met, and scowled over at Rowena. "What is it you're doing, woman?"

She directed her scowl to him instead. "First of all, you do not speak to me, nay, any woman, in such a way. Second of all, I won't reply until you use the required manners, and at least introduce yourself first." Helga stifled a laugh.

Gryffindor sucked in a breath, eyes glittering. "She has a tongue! And what a sharp one!"

The thin man scowled back. "I do not believe you have introduced yourself."

She realised she was right, and so looked up. "Professor Rowena Ravenclaw," she said, elegantly extending her hand. Clearly from good stock, he bent and brushed his lips off her hand. "Salazar Slytherin."

"I was just saying to Professor Ravenclaw," Helga said cheerfully to Gryffindor. "About our names alliterating. And now we all have it! It's almost fate, isn't it, meeting on some wild moor-"

"You've been reading too many romance books," Rowena said without looking up.

She flushed again and looked down, silent. Rowena realised her mistake. She probably couldn't read. Oddly, she felt guilty. She just wished they'd all go back to wherever they came from and leave her alone - social interaction was not at all her fortè.

"Excuse me, Professor what is it you're doing?" Gryffindor asked, looking at her wand and wrinkling his brow.

She sighed. "I'm looking for something."

"Like us, then. Would you, as someone who is so clearly intelligent, know any good inns in which to stay in Hogsmeade?"

She eyed him warily, a suspicion brewing in her mind, and then her wand was at his throat as quick as lightning. He spluttered, and Helga cried out as she said fiercely, "Who are you? Do you work for my father? Talk, fiend, or I will end you!"

Rowena had, as her nursemaid always said, a talent for dramatics.

"What the - no! I don't even know your bloody father!"

Convinced of his innocence, she stepped back, now flushing slightly. "My apologies, Mr Gryffindor."

He straightened his collar, rather red in the face. "Fey, Ravenclaw. Does you father make a habit of sending handsome men after you then?"

"Hardly," she said coldly, not giving away any more information as Helga hesitantly said, "Well - now we're all calm, can we talk like civilised human beings?"

Rowena nodded slowly as Slytherin wearily fixed his cufflinks. "Are we going to stand talking on a freezing moor all day or can I leave?"

Gryffindor brightened. "Ravenclaw can show us where Hogsmeade is, can't you, Ravenclaw?"

"Professor Ravenclaw," she corrected, a slight flush rising to her cheeks as she realised just how stupid and pretentious the title was. She wasn't yet a teacher, not for years yet, and still she was pretending to these strangers that she was, while in reality she was nothing more than what her governess had described her as in their last terse meeting three years before; an upstart little girl with ideas above her place.

She looked to Helga, who was smiling, hanging onto Godric's arm and almost bouncing up and down on her feet in excitement, then at Godric, who looked eager, Salazar, who raised an eyebrow.

"You're not going to leave me alone if I say I don't, will you?"

"Shouldn't think so."

She slid her wand inside her sleeve. "Come on, then."

 

Helga found herself sneaking glances at Professor Ravenclaw as they walked down to the village. She seemed very straight laced and regal, although Helga was sure she had seen something flicker in those cold blue eyes. Humour, perhaps. Her face was as perfect as if she had been made of ice, unlike Helga's freckled features, and black hair was tied impatiently to the side in a braid. The boys went ahead, and the professor looked up, catching Helga watching her. "What?" She asked, rather rudely. Helga was beginning to think that she didn't like her.

"Nothing," she said quickly, and then, to change the subject "What were you doing back there? With your wand, I mean."

She gave a little shrug. "I had a dream," she said. "Of a school I would build."

"You're a seer?"

"Of a sort. For a while I've been thinking about how poor children cannot afford magical tutors, and that some are even punished for their magic, which often results in obscurials-" she broke off.

"I've lost you, haven't I?"

"I'm afraid so," Helga laughed, and could have sworn she received a flicker of a smile in return.

"Oh well. Hopefully after Lord Muck here gets his place to stay I can return home. There is nothing here for me."

"I'm sure there is. I've heard about here, you know. It's supposed to be the largest magical dwelling in Britain."

She wondered, briefly, if this had been where Professor Ravenclaw had grown up. She wanted to know about her, wanted to know about her childhood.....

She felt herself blush. This was not the place for such thoughts. Professor Ravenclaw gave her a glance before saying "Here."

The four stopped outside a building a sign proclaimed "The Hog's Head."

"I trust I can leave you here?" She asked, semi sarcastically.

"Won't you stay for a drink?" Godric asked, smiling. Helga liked him so far. He reminded her of her father, happy and cheerful. "I'm paying."

"I don't think so," she said, looking rather left out.

Helga reached out and touched her arm. It burned like fire. "Please stay," she said softly.

There was a pause. "One drink."

"Excellent," Godric said happily, pushing open the door.

 

"So where it is you hail from, Salazar?"

He gave a little shrug. "Ireland. For the past few years, though, I've been sailing."

"Why did you come here?" Helga asked.

"Interest in certain types of magic."

He didn't elaborate. Godric had grown even more loud and cheery with each drink, and even Professor Ravenclaw looked almost as though she was smiling. Now, he raised his glass. "To new friendships! To Helga's job! To Salazar's magic! To.....Professor Ravenclaw's school!"

"Call me Rowena," she said, her pale cheeks flushed slightly.

"Rowena! You know what," he added, his voice becoming slightly quieter. "Helga could work at your school. She's a dab hand at herbology, she told me."

Helga flushed once again. She wished she could stop herself from doing so. "I didn't," she poked him with her elbow, marvelling at how comfortable she was with these people after only a few hours of knowing them. "I just like growing plants."

Rowena smiled at her, a proper smile this time. "See, you can smile!" She said, feeling her own lips break into one.

The smile faded slightly. "I should go home," she said quickly, beginning to rise. "Things to do."

"Where is it you live?" Helga asked, looking with worry at the snow that had begun to fall outside, and almost hoping it was too heavy to apparate in.

"The North," she said vaguely.

"You can't apparate in that!" Godric said. "You'll end up in Africia with no toes and half your side missing."

She didn't seem to find it funny. "I'll be fine."

"You will not," Salazar said, unexpectedly chiming in. In their tipsy state, they each started chiding at her that it was too cold outside, that it was snowing, that would turn into an icicle if the splinching didn't get her first. Eventually, and reluctantly, so it seemed, she agreed to get a room at the inn.

 

What a day. Rowena lay in the small bed in her room, thinking back. She had come here looking simply for a place she had seen in a vision, and now had three......well, friends. Her childhood in Ravenclaw Manor had been a lonely one, surrounded by books. Her mother had died in childbirth, her brother was away in England, and her father may as well be dead. She could count on one hand the amount of times she had seen him in the last year, and none of the occasions had been pleasant. She sighed, burrowing further into the warm blankets. And then there was Helga. Helga. The name slipped like sugar off her tongue as she whispered it "Helga."

She didn't blush easily, but now felt one crawl over her cheeks. Really! Thinking of people she had just met as friends, and whatever the business with Helga. Twenty years old, and such childish thoughts. "You're going crazy, Rowena," she whispered to herself. Giving up on sleep, she rose, thinking perhaps a nightcap down in the pub was what she needed.

 

Helga lay in her room, unable to sleep despite the bed being so comfortable. She was fizzing with excitement. She had made three new friends, and while she didn't have a job yet, she'd start looking tomorrow, and surely find one quickly. She had only enough money to pay for one night, and hoped that the work, whatever it would be, would be enough to pay for lodgings. She bit her lip, unable to stop a smile from crossing her face as she thought of Rowena Ravenclaw. Really, it was very foolish. The woman hardly seemed to notice her. Twenty years old, and she was thinking of such rubbish. As her mother would have said, she'd be better focused on finding work and a good husband.

 

Godric lay in his bed, thinking of the new friends he had made. He came from a wealthy family, no matter how much he liked to pretend otherwise, and he could well afford the inn, if Helga, who clearly was not as rich, needed help. He thought her quite proud, though certainly not as much as Rowena. Now there was a mystery. A good looking girl, yet so locked up in a tower of ice. "Good luck to the man that marries her," he thought, turning over.

 

Salazar lay, thinking. He'd never been one for staying in one place for too long. A nomadic traveller, he would have described himself as. He had come here after hearing some tales of an elder wand, and found nothing as usual. Ah well. He found himself thinking of his new....what would he call them? Companions? Friends? The words seemed too familiar, yet the mood between them was as easy and comfortable as if they had been friends from childhood.

 

Rowena was surprised, when she went downstairs to a mostly empty bar, to see Helga sitting sipping butterbeer. "Helga," she said, and pulled up a stool to her table, after calling for some of her own. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Too excited," Helga said, and she smiled again. Rowena wished she would stop. It was doing odd things to her chest. Her butterbeer arrived, and for something to do she sipped it, feeling warmth radiate through her bones.

Helga broke the silence. "You come from Scotland, then?"

"Yes," she said shortly, not wishing to elaborate. "You are from Wales?"

She nodded, and Rowena said "Long distance to travel, for work."

Small talk had never been her thing. But she found that, with Helga, she wanted to know. She could sit and listen to her soft voice for hours. This displeased her. The last thing she needed was to get too close to anybody. "There wasn't much available," Helga said, and a moment later "For a witch. They don't, er, like witches much in Wales."

"Whatever do you mean?" Rowena asked, knowing full well what she meant.

"Well, they tried to burn me at the stake."

She said it so matter of factly that it took Rowena a moment. "Truly?"

She sipped her drink. "Yes."

She seemed uncomfortable suddenly. "My father tried to stop them and they killed him."

Rowena gaped at her. "Oh Helga," she said finally. "That's horrible."

"I know," Helga said, sipping her drink as though wishing for something to do.

Rowena tried to change the subject. It seemed very odd to see Helga sad, something almost wrong with it. It was like the sun had been covered by clouds. "Do you enjoy herbology?"

Her face lit up. "Oh Rowena, I do. It's a bit cold outside to be growing much now, but I'd hoped to find some Scottish fauna outdoors."

"Perhaps I can help you," Rowena suggested, and got that beautiful smile that turned her insides to mush. "Perhaps."

They had finished their drinks; "I suppose I should get back to bed," Rowena said finally.

"Mm. I too. Wait, Rowena-"

"Yes?" She asked, almost rising from the table.

"Well.....earlier today I could have sworn you did not like me, yet you are talking to me like an old friend now."

She felt a stupid flush crawl across her cheeks. "Yes," she said, stupidly. "Um. I do like you."

And she left a bemused Helga sitting at the table until she shrugged and rose herself.


	2. Chapter 2

_January, Scotland, 985 AD_

The days passed and Rowena found herself liking her companions more and more. She used the excuse of the bad weather for not returning home, and instead helped Helga collect little seedlings of winter plants, trying to ignore the warm feeling she got when Helga's face lit up at a new find. It was perhaps two weeks later that she had another dream. In the dream, she was alone, standing on the moor she had met her friends on. The castle was ahead of her, that familiar dream, lit up against the sky, which was darkening indigo at the edges. She moved forward, intending, as she usually did, to fruitlessly attempt to enter, but there was a loud snort, and she turned to see a hog, with warts all over its back. Interested, though slightly repulsed, she went closer. It was unusually large for a hog, and she got the feeling she was supposed to follow it as it picked its way over the moors. She did so, and eventually it stopped at an empty stretch of land, lying down on its back and snorting again. Rowena wasn't stupid. Quite the opposite, in fact. "Here?" She asked the hog, looking around. "You want me to build here?"

It made a noise that to her sounded like a yes.

"And....." she thought about what she had been wondering. The way the four had come together seemed completely random, almost impossible. "Shall I do it alone?"

A horrible screeching noise, a definite "No."

 

"Hogwarts," she finished, looking at her friends. There was a pause.

"Hogwarts?" Salazar asked finally.

"Yes. What's wrong with it?"

"It's just......Hogwarts."

"I think it's quite fitting," she said defensively. "A hog with warts lead me to the spot. Hogwarts."

"I think it's a wonderful name," Helga said brightly. She did everything brightly. Rowena avoided looking at her by sliding into a seat between the men, but she could almost feel her warm eyes on her, like the sun's light.

"Indeed," Godric agreed, sipping his glass of water. "Might I suggest the lion as our school emblem?"

"Steady on, Godric, we haven't even got a school yet!"

"Ah but that's easily sorted," he smiled.

"Not exactly," Rowena sighed. "Helga's poor, no offence-"

"None taken."

"I'm cut off unless I marry, Salazar has not seen his father in years and you.....well you."

"I'm a lord," he said brightly. "I've got more than enough."

She gaped. "A lord?"

"Mm."

"But you don't....act like one."

"Because I hate the whole business," he said. "But if you need galleons, I'm your man."

"Thanks," she said faintly.

*******  
 _February, Scotland, 985 AD_

Rowena lay in bed, her limbs feeling like they were locked together, her mind weighed down, unable to gather the motivation to move. Her little room was quiet but for the quiet murmur of people passing out on the landing, the noises of those downstairs. She hadn't eaten in.....well, she couldn't remember. Helga weighed on her mind, Helga, Helga, Helga, so much so she wished to tear the thoughts away. The sharp pain of a headache loomed, and she knew that if she moved one muscle it would attack. Her feelings were a jumble; how could she ever have grown to care for the woman so? Her sickness - and it was, definitely, a sickness, she was sure of that - was striking again. Men left her cold while even the most covered female form made her stare. She couldn't stop thinking about Helga, about her warm smiles and her eyes, her soft lips and her large breasts.....oh fey, she was a pervert, was she not? That was one word, she thought wryly, that her father had never called her.

A sharp crack broke her concentration, and then there was a squeaky exclamation, "Miss Rowena is hurted again! Miss Rowena is sad."

"Bellona," she managed through cracked lips, squinting as she slid up an inch in her bed. The house elf stood, small and shrivelled, dressed in her toga - like outfit that looked rather like a dirty pillowcase. There was no use trying to get her to wear anything else - Rowena had, in her childhood, to no avail. "I have.....I have a headache."

Her voice was hoarse from tiredness and disuse. Bellona busied herself with making Rowena her special tea, then handed it to her as she sat up slowly, her vision dulling at the intensity of the headache.

"Thank you," she whispered, sipping the blue liquid. She had no idea what Bellona used, but it always worked; a soothing balm spread through her body, relaxing aching muscles, releasing tense shoulders and providing her head with calm. She didn't ask how Bellona had found her, as she had often found house elves had a strange magic of their own. She had not told her of her leaving, and there was, perhaps, slight bitterness in her old friend's tone as she rather violently plumped the pillows.

"There is no note left, Miss Rowena."

"Yes Bellona-"

"No word to Bellona."

"Yes-"

"Bellona is worrying herself sick, Miss, about Miss Rowena, Miss."

Rowena hung her head in shame, black hair that needed a wash falling forward. "I'm sorry."

"As Miss should be, Miss. Miss Rowena would do well to remember, Miss, that there is one person who is caring."

Shame washed over her. "Oh Bellona, it wasn't that bad, was it? He didn't hurt you?"

Bellona sniffed. "Bellona is having her ways. Master is not minding so much, Miss, when she tells him Miss has gone on courtship."

"Did you really? Oh, I don't deserve you," she said in relief, having been dreading her father's reaction to the news that his only daughter, despised as she was, had abandoned him while he worked fruitlessly to find her a husband. Bellona looked up from the pillows, pursing her leathery lips.

"Master is using some very colourful language, Miss. If Mistress knew!"

She peered at her closer with such caring brown eyes, human or not, that reminded her so much of Helga, and her strange feelings, that she felt tears prick in her eyes. She looked down at her ring for something to do. It did not help much. It reminded her of her mother, and of Bellona's promise.

"Did someone hurt Miss?" She asked fiercely.

"No, Bellona. I - I hurt myself, as always. Thank you for taking care of me."

She flopped back down, covering her face with the pillows.

"I hope this running away is not about the silly school, Miss."

"It's not silly," she said, her voice slightly muffled.

"Mm. Wizardings and magickings is all fine when it is at home, Miss, but when it is out here.....what Master would say!"

"Well he doesn't know," she said shortly. "And he shall never."

However, Bellona's lie would only keep him at bay for so long. Her father was not a patient man. It would have been of no matter, before, but these days he was showing her much more of his loathsome attention, for the sole purpose of selling her off like a cow the highest bidder, his own cheapness the lone reason he was still, at this stage, so picky. As he often shouted at her, no man wanted a dried up frigid wife of over twenty years. She'd be lucky if she fetched a pauper, not that she cared. She'd die before she married.

"Bellona asks you, Miss, come back now, before Master tires of this foolishness."

"I am very sorry, Bellona, but I'm not returning. It was nice of you to come. Now good day."

There was a rather sad pause, and then a crack, lonely silence ringing in her ears as she began to cry.

  
_March, Scotland, 985 AD_

 

Winter had turned into spring, and Godric, who was one of the nicest people Helga had ever met, paid for her room. She was to be the herbology teacher at Hogwarts, and while it was still early days, she had full faith in her new friends. She didn't believe that their meeting had been an accident, rather that it had been fate. Blueprints were drawn, plans were made, and soon it was late March. Time here flew, showing, perhaps, just how enjoyable it was. But they ran into a minor problem one day, when Salazar said rather flatly that he would not teach muggles. Rowena's quill had stopped scratching. Godric looked up from his print. "But...." Helga said. "Muggleborns can be just as good as purebloods."

"I believe," he said carefully. "That magic should be kept solely in pure families."

"I'm a muggleborn. Don't you respect me?"

"Of course I do, Helga, but really I don't think you should have been schooled at all in magic, and whoever did it was a fool."

Helga felt tears rise in her throat. She was a sensitive soul, and easily offended, especially when it came to friends and family. "There's no need to be so nasty," Godric said, shock flickering across his features.

"My father was a fool?" Helga asked. "Was he a fool when he stood against the village alone? Was he a fool when they burned him at the stake?"

"Helga-" Godric started, but she was gone, biting back angry tears.

 

Rowena knocked on the door gently. "Helga?"

She found that she was truly concerned for her friend's wellbeing. It was a if, over the last few months, her icy exterior had been melted away. "Yes?"

Her voice sounded hoarse. "May I come in?"

A pause. "Fine. Just you."

"Of course."

The door clicked and swung open, and Rowena stepped inside, then closed the door. Helga was sitting on the edge of her bed, her eyes red. If there was one thing Rowena had learned about Helga, it was that she was extremely sensitive. However, Rowena was not good with feelings. At all. She thought, perhaps, that she should try to comfort her. Helga had her wand in her lap, and was looking down at the varnished wood. "My father made this for me," she said softly. "Unicorn hair. Willow. It took him an age."

"Oh Helga," Rowena found herself saying, although she was not sure how much comfort was in "Oh Helga."

Helga sniffed and wiped her eyes with her hand. Rowena handed her a handkerchief. She stared morosely at it after thanking her. It was silk, with a little embroidered "R.R" in the corner. "It's beautiful," she sniffled. "I shouldn't want to spoil it."

"I have dozens," Rowena said dismissively.

Little tears clung to Helga's golden lashes. "It's just, Rowena, sometimes it's hard to be positive. I try to be. I really do. All I have left in the world is my wand and my sister Gwyneth, and she hates me-"

She began to sob again. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you," Rowena said uncomfortably.

"She does, I know she does, she thinks it's my fault. She can't – can't do magic, you see. Oh dear, I believe it's rather selfish of me to be prattling on like this."

"Not at all," Rowena said, and then had the breath knocked out of her as Helga gave her a hug. Rowena had never been hugged properly like this before, at least not by a human, as her house elf Bellona had sometimes. This was was pleasant and warm and Helga was soft, her chest pressing against hers. She smelt like flour and jasmine, the knitted jumper that she was wearing over her robes soft. "Now," Helga said, pulling back and dabbing rather daintily at her eyes. Rowena felt strangely sorry that she was not hugging her any longer. "I must apologise to Salazar."

"Whatever for?" Rowena asked in amazement.

Helga's eyes were sincere. "I flew off the handle too easily."

"If anything, Helga, he should apologise to you."

"Oh, he'll be too proud to."

And once again, Rowena was left stumped in how much of a good person Helga was.


	3. Chapter 3

_April, Scotland, 985 AD_

An owl came for Rowena in early April, a letter from her father. In it, he was angry, and she sighed, her eyes flickering down the page quickly before composing a reply filled with utter rubbish about marriages and looking for a good husband. She watched the owl fly off, a slight lump in her throat.  As a small child, each of his visits had been occasions she longed for. She longed for her father to be proud of her, to adore her. But he never seemed to notice her as anything other than a prize cow he could sell to the highest bidder. He grew angry at the smallest thing, so much so that she had buried herself in the library. Ugh, she was growing angry thinking of such things. She scrunched up a piece of parchment for something to do with her hands and then lobbed it into the fire, imagining as it burned that she would never go home again. The thought granted her happiness, almost.

It was soon after that Helga, forehead creased with worry, told her she had something to confess. Rowena grew slightly worried. She wondered if she was going home to Wales, and felt a swooping sense of panic. She evenly said "I'm listening."

"Well.....Rowena, I can't read," Helga bit her lip. "And I'm thinking, how am I supposed to teach if I can't read?"

There was a pause, and then Rowena burst out laughing. Helga looked somewhat hurt.

"Oh Helga," she managed. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just....that's so trivial. Why, I can teach you to read if you so wish."

"Could you?"

"Of course."

 ********

_June, Scotland, 985 AD_

 

So as the weeks wore on, Rowena spent more and more time out of her room and with Helga, her head bent over one book or another as she sounded out letters. They started with the simple English alphabet, and Rowena drew a large letter A. "What words begin with a?" She asked Helga gently, who said uncertainly, "Apple."

Rowena smiled and sketched an apple, and so on and so forth, encountering slight difficulties that were easily rectified, until H.

"That's easy," Helga said triumphantly. "I saw it on a note once. H for Helga."

Rowena bent her head, and Helga did the same.

"How are you going to draw me?" She asked, sounding interested.

Rowena could smell jasmine from her. She could feel her heart beginning to thump, and said, clearing her throat and pulling back, "I'm not great at drawing."

However, Helga seemed ridiculously delighted with the simple little stick person. "Oh, look how big my smile is!"

Rowena felt a smile pull at her own lips. "Because you have a lovely smile," she said, and then hid her flushing face, asking, "I?"

Helga would not have admitted it, but she enjoyed these times so much that she almost hoped it would take her longer to learn to read. But eventually they finished, and Helga could read moderately well, though some words still evaded her. Learning with Rowena was much easier than it had been as a child in the village school, when she would be caned for reading the words so slowly. Rowena was, unusually for her character, gentle and kind, and never truly seemed impatient. Helga looked up, after several weeks, smiling, thrilled after she had read out the whole page, to see Rowena smiling at her softly, far more softly than she had ever seen her smile. "Rowena?"

Rowena seemed to emerge from a daze, and her smile changed to something more friendly. "That was excellent, Helga!"

She laughed, thrilled at the compliment and that she had finally accomplished it. "Thank you so much, Rowena!"

She hugged her tightly, and Rowena was at first stiff, then relaxed. Her hair smelled like apples, and Helga held her perhaps slightly longer than she should have before she pulled back. Things were slightly awkward until Helga said "I must go and check on my plants."

"Yes," Rowena murmured, then went back to the book as Helga left,  a flush creeping across her cheeks.

 

"Helga, you seem away with the fairies," Godric said, sitting down on the bench across from her. She looked up, and smiled. "Oh hello. Just busy, I suppose."

"How are your plants? Thriving?"

She nodded and then said quickly "Godric....could you ever think.....oh goodness-"

She bit her lip and flushed.

"What?"

"Oh never mind-"

"Come on, Helga. I think we're fairly good friends. I'll listen with an unbiased ear, I promise."

"Well......." She seemed to make up her mind, and crossed her arms. "Godric, have you ever been in....in love?"

He was so surprised he burst out laughing, and then felt bad as Helga looked hurt. "Oh Helga, I'm sorry. Why do you ask that? Don't tell me you're in love with Salazar?"

She shook her head, flushing a deeper shade of red. "Never mind...."

"Ah Helga, I'm sorry. To answer your question......I don't think so."

"And....and how would I know if I were in love?"

He couldn't stop smiling at her. "Oh Helga, this is adorable. Who is he?"

"Godric, please."

"Well I suppose you'd know. You'd get butterflies and sweaty hands and you'd want to be around them all the time."

"I see," she said seriously, looking down at her hands.

"Haven't you ever been in love before?"

"No. I've never even courted anyone before."

"Oh Helga," he said, shaking his head. "You are so innocent. Any man would be lucky to have you, and that's a promise."

"Godric, please give me a hug," she said, looking confused.

"Come to Uncle Godric," he said, holding out his arms as she hugged him tightly. Helga was a great fan of hugs. "Oh Godric," she said, against his shoulder. "When did my life grow so complicated?"

"Oh Helga, those are called "feelings."

  
Helga was finding herself very, very confused. She was an innocent soul, and always had been, but not even she could deny that her feelings for Rowena ran deeper than friendly. She had never felt anything like this before, this....this flutter in her stomach when she looked at her, smiling at the way she flapped her hands when ranting about something she was interested in, admiring the way her black hair caught the light and the way her blue eyes glimmered beautifully, her strange colouring entrancing, how wonderful the magic she taught her felt when she used it, much more alive and sparking than usual. Yes, she concluded, she, Helga Hufflepuff, was obviously falling victim to a phase. That was what it had to be. There was no way this what her sister and friends had talked about in her youth - falling in love. It simply was not possible. However, it didn't pass in a day or two. Nor a week. Or two. Or three. Weeks ticked by and she simply found herself becoming more and more flustered and flushing in her friend's presence, to the point where she was having shameful dreams about, good heavens, kissing her!

"Rowena," she said, her voice careful, watching the other woman put down her book. They were sitting outside in the weak sunshine, atop Helga's cloak, and she was sure she had never in her life wanted to touch somebody's face so much.

"Yes?"

"What does being in love feels like? You have courted, have you not?"

Rowena was certainly not a very open person, but had dropped a casual sentence, once, about visiting a teashop in Hogsmeade with someone called Henry. She had shut up straight after and reverted to her book.

"Yes," she said, her long pale fingers nervously drawing themselves across the book's leather cover. It was very strange, but with Rowena, she found she noticed a lot of things she didn't about anyone else. For instance, she would have described Godric's eyes simply as green, or Salazar's as grey, but with Rowena she often found herself comparing them to more artistic shades of indigo, with the slightest flecks of hazel. Salazar's hair was simply black, but Rowena's was deep and inky, beautiful midnight. Godric's lips were lips. She didn't focus on them at all. But Rowena's lips were deep red from whatever cosmetics she used, and whenever she spoke, they drew Helga's attention. Salazar's voice was simply Gaelic, Godric's English, but Rowena's made every word broad, made her ears long for the sound, and.....oh dear. She had been thinking for too long, and only heard the latter part of the sentence.

" - afraid I was not in love, however."

"Not in love?" She half exclaimed. "Whyever would you court someone if you were not in love?"

She looked down at the silver ring on her finger. "It was a relationship of convenience rather than true feeling," she murmured. "Politics."

"Politics?"

Rowena sighed, but looked up and said patiently, "Helga, our fathers were in business together, and as I was nearing seventeen, with no signs of marriage, and he eighteen and the same, we were pushed together. It was always.....always awkward."

Helga had sensed many times before that she was not at all comfortable speaking about her family, particularly her father, and said hurriedly, "I'm sorry if this seems terribly forward, Rowena. Forgive me if I'm being rude."

Rowena smiled for the first time, and her whole face brightened for it. "Not at all, Helga. Why have you such interest in the subject? Do you harbour secret feelings for Sal?"

Her cheeks burned. "Not at all!" She exclaimed.

"Godric, then?"

If you only knew, Hazel thought, feeling red seep into her cheeks. Rowena looked sorry.

"I don't wish to make you uncomfortable."

She stopped, then said, "Do you know, I think you are my first proper human friend."

"Human?" She asked in puzzlement, thinking of the strange faerie creatures that she had seen in Wales, and been warned about.

"Well, I have my house elf, Bellona."

"House elf?" She asked, again confused.

Rowena's smile showed no signs of being annoyed at her slowness, however, as she would have been with Godric.

"Magical creatures."

"What do they look like?"

Her smile was playful, now. "They have big, long, sharp gleaming teeth that they use to tear meat open-"

"What!" She exclaimed, horrified. "Are they allowed near children?"

"Yes indeed. Their skin is as green as anything, a deep, poisonous green. Their eyes are small and black, and they have long tongues that flicker and hiss, glistening with venom. They're terribly vicious."

"Oh!" Helga moaned, holding her hands to her face. "What horrible creatures! How could you be friends with one? They sound terribly dangerous!"

Rowena was laughing, beautiful peals that made her shiver as she looked through her laced fingers. "Oh Helga, you are terribly gullible."

"You mean you were lying?" She said, slightly hurt as she lowered her hands.

Rowena noticed. Rowena noticed everything. Her face became more concerned.

"Helga, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, sometimes I get carried away. I'd call her to meet you, but my father would grow suspicious."

"That was cruel," Helga sniffed. "So what are they really like?"

"They're servants for wizards. They're the sweetest little things, honestly, Helga. Bellona is the only person that truly cares for me back at the manor."

"Well I'm glad you have her," she said, relieved, as she did not like to think of any lonely child.

Rowena looked at her, perhaps slightly uncomfortably. "Are you alright, then? I'm considering giving you a hug."

She smiled. "You can if you wish."

They both stood, Helga brushing the crumbs from her lunch off her dress as Rowena hugged her. Rowena, despite all of her sharp angles and bones, was still nice to hug. She was warm, and smelled of ink. She held herself less stiffly than the last occasion, and even rubbed her back a little. "There there," she said vaguely.

Helga burst into laughter, stepping back.

"What's funny?"

"You really don't know how to comfort people, do you?"

She looked confused. "I.....I'm sorry, did I do it wrong? I've read about it, you see, and that's the kind of thing one says-"

"Haven't you been hugged before?" She asked in amazement. "By your mother, even?"

"My mother died the day I was born," she said, in a tone that was strangely lonely. "And I.....I don't particularly like when Bellona does it, though of course-"

Her breath was knocked out of her by the force of the hug a crying Helga was now giving her. "Rowena!" She half sobbed.

"Oh poor Rowena!"

Rowena smiled and hugged her back in a more familiar way. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me."

"I will anyway! Rowena! So you never had anyone to....to kiss you better, or read you bedtime stories, or teach you how to cook-"

"Bellona tried to do that. I hated it."

"Oh Rowena! I thought you were simply rude, at first, but you......oh-"

She buried her head in the soft folds of her cloak, crying all the more, and as Rowena hugged her back properly, she thought she had never wanted to hug someone so much.

 ********

_September, Scotland 985 AD_

 

A warm summer had turned into a wet autumn, and the rain was pouring as Helga came back from the village shop to see Rowena going down. There was the vague shape of an umbrella sticking up from her wand, and she stopped.

"Oh hello, Rowena."

Rowena peered at her, at the water that was trickling down her face. Her hair, she noticed, curled even more in the rain, frizzing beautifully around her ears. "You're all wet," she observed.

"Yes."

She motioned as though to join her under the umbrella, but Helga shook her head, laughing. "I like the rain."

"How?" Rowena asked, as the rain slid neatly off her umbrella. "It's miserable."

"Everything is so fresh and new in the rain, almost like the bad is being washed away. It's beautiful."

Rowena shook her head bemusedly. "You're going to catch a cold."

Helga bit her lip in mischief, and then grabbed her free hand. Rowena shrieked in surprise, and the umbrella flickered and disappeared. Water began to pour on her, trickling down her collar and pasting her hair to her head. "Helga!"

Helga laughed. Her hand was warm, and Rowena found herself laughing with her, even as the rain made her cold. Helga's hair glittered like golden coins in the rain, and she looked almost angelic. They stared at each other for a few moments, strangely breathless, until thunder clapped unexpectedly, making them both jump.

"Come on," Rowena said, letting of of her hand and tucking her cloak tighter around her. "We'd better get back."

Helga's forehead crinkled, making Rowena long to smooth it back with her fingers. "What about the shop?"

"It doesn't matter," she said dismissively, and they began to make their way back. It began to rain heavier, but in her dazed state, Rowena didn't think to cast a charm. Neither, it seemed, did Helga, and they stopped for shelter under the porch of a nearby house. The street was empty, nobody foolish enough to be outside, the sky grey as the rain fell. The air smelled fresh and new, and Rowena realised Helga was right. Rain was beautiful. The surrounding flora and grass looked greener and healthier, and the dirt on the paved street trickled down into the drains. She closed her eyes slightly, inhaling the fresh smell, and felt a hand brush a lock of hair from her forehead.

She opened her eyes slowly, and saw Helga in front of her, hand outstretched. Slowly, too slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she bent her head and kissed her.  Her lips were damp and soft, and Rowena could hardly breathe because this was happening, she was kissing her, she was kissing Helga. It hardly felt real, but Helga's fingers in her damp hair were real, and Helga's tongue in her mouth was real, and it was all she had dreamed of and more, so much different to her other fumbling kisses. Helga was soft and warm, and there was no horrible stubble. Her teeth scraped across her lip and she went lightheaded. She was kissing Helga. Her father's face flashed into her mind suddenly, his face red with anger, telling her she had to marry a lord or he would disinherit her. Fear won over passion, and she broke the kiss, feeling a flush spread over her cheeks. "Rowena," Helga breathed, and Rowena yearned with everything in her to lean forward and kiss her again, but instead she stood back. "We should – we should get back," she said quickly, turning, the rain attacking her face like little bullets as she walked away.


	4. Chapter 4

_October, Scotland, 985 AD_

 

There was something definitely in the air these days, besides the rain. The wet weather continued, and so did the morose feeling. Rowena stayed locked in her room for most of the day, and Helga became visibly upset, presumably because of her plants. Salazar may have been a sour old bastard, even he would admit that, but an upset Helga was not a nice sight. So he cast a protective covering over them so they continued to grow. She grew even more upset. "Helga?" He asked.

"Oh Salazar, it's so nice of you to do," she sobbed, then managed "I feel terrible."

"What's wrong?" He asked. Again, he was not the type to listen to people whinging about their problems, but his three friends invoked all of these odd feelings in him. Perhaps he was going soft. "Oh goodness," she dabbed at her eyes carefully with a handkerchief he could have sworn had the initials R.R in the corner, then folded it up almost lovingly and put it back in her pocket. "I think Rowena is avoiding me."

"Why would she be avoiding you?" He asked, confused. "It's just her way."

She hesitated visibly, and then said "Oh, it doesn't matter. Something silly."

She smiled at him. "Why don't we go back inside? It must be almost time for dinner."

He followed her as she left, frowning. Helga was a terrible liar.

 

A letter came for Rowena one day as she sat writing at her desk. Ever since the incident in the rain, she had avoided Helga. She knew it to be childish, but every time she thought of that damned kiss, embarrassment flooded her. The owl rapped violently at the window, and she was so immersed in her work it took several more taps, each one more violent than the last, until she realised. She frowned, then opened the window, and the owl deposited the letter on the desk, shook its wet feathers all over her papers and left with a screech. She scowled after it, and waved her wand to dry them, then picked up the letter. The writing on the front said Lady Rowena Ravenclaw in swooping letters she didn't recognise. That didn't mean anything. A lot of the time, her father was too lazy to write letters, instead getting the servants to do it.

She opened it carefully, then scanned the letter. Her brother.

Father is ill, he wrote. The healers do not know what he is, nor how long to live, though they guess not long at all.

She stopped. As much as she disliked her father, it didn't mean she wished him harm. Thinking quickly, she went downstairs, where she told her friends.

Helga's face was creased with worry. She was rather pale, Rowena noticed, as though she had not slept well. "Do you want one of us to go with you?"

"No," she said shortly, before going upstairs, packing her trunk and disapparating quickly.

 

When the world righted itself, she was standing in the garden of Ravenclaw Manor. It loomed in front of her, a colossal giant, and she swallowed. A selfish feeling was rising in her. She didn't want to go in. She wanted to go back to Hogsmeade, climb into her bed and never come out again. She didn't want to see her father ill. She didn't want to see the giant she had feared all her life weak, didn't want to see him suffer.

But she steeled herself, and went inside. The hallway was dark and quiet, and as she reached the stairs, she saw Healer Smyth descend them, holding his case in his hands, face grave. "I'm sorry, Lady Rowena," he said simply, before departing.

Panic mourning, she went upstairs. Her father's chamber was dim, smelling strongly of lilies. Roderick was sitting by the bed, staring into nothing. "Brother?" She asked, then risked a glance toward the bed. It was empty.

"Where is Father?" She asked, walking forward slowly. Her mother's ring in her pocket seemed warm, and she touched it for comfort.

"In his coffin," the blunt answer made her blink.

"He- he's dead?"

"Yes," to her horror, he began to cry. "Oh sister, what are we to do?"

Slowly, she put down her trunk, and in absence of a chair to steady her, sat on it. "He has left us with no money."

"But....but your court-"

"All gone."

Of course, she thought bitterly. Whatever money entrusted to him had long since been frittered on alcohol and whores.

"So you're selling the manor," she said flatly.

He cried, and she despised him for it. He wasn't crying for their father, he was crying for the precious gold coins that would be buried with him. She suddenly wondered if this was how he had always been, or if, when their mother had died and he had been five years old, he had cried for her. She left the room soon afterwords, still holding the trunk, and put it down again on the landing of the second floor, not sure what to do. "Bellona?" She managed.

There was a crack, and the houseelf appeared, and bowed so low her nose almost touched the ground. "Miss Rowena has called Bellona, and Bellona is here, Miss."

"Bellona, do you belong to my brother, now?"

"Master Roderick owns all house elves."

She straightened, her large brown eyes wide. Rowena began to cry, as they reminded her of Helga. "Miss Rowena is crying."

"I'm sorry," she was forgetting all etiquette now. Never, ever show weakness, and certainly not in front of servants. "Bellona would come with Miss Rowena if Bellona could. Bellona...." She shivered, and Rowena, used to this, caught her around the middle tightly as she went to throw herself down the stairs. "Bellona does not like Master Roderick," the house elf said quickly. "Bellona is very grateful, Miss, for helping her, Miss."

"No problem, Bellona," she managed, out of breath from holding the wriggling house elf. She went still. "Can I let go of you now?"

A shudder passed through her. "Yes."

She let go and Bellona stood still. Rowena paused, an idea coming to her. "Bellona....."

Bellona was clutching her ears tightly, and squeaked "Yes, Miss Rowena?"

"How would you – you and the other house elves - like a better job? In a castle, and you'd be treated fairly."

"Bellona cannot leave Ravenclaw Manor, Miss, for Bellona was born here and so Bellona shall die here, when the day is coming, Miss."

"But if....if it were possible?"

"Then Bellona is to be very grateful, Miss!"

"I'll think of something."

 

Her something was to beg Roderick, who refused flatly, as the house elves would fetch a larger price along with the house. "Please Roderick," she begged. "This could be.....this could be great, if we had the correct materials-"

He unexpectedly laughed bitterly, searching through their father's desk, which made her despise him more. "Sister, we both know your plan will not go anywhere. Leave the building to us men, and concentrate on finding a rich husband and saving yourself from the streets."

He had made it clear he was not providing for her, not along with the three mouths he already had to feed – His wife Rosetta and their two children.

"Roderick-" she thought, suddenly, of the ring in her pocket. It was silver, inset with blue sapphires, and had always been her pride possession. "If I could – if I could pay you for them," she said, hardly believing the words were coming from her lips. But she wouldn't ever let Bellona, who had been there since she was a small child, or Mimsy, or any of the others be sold to a cruel master. He paused in his searching, a gleam she recognised coming into his eyes. A greedy gleam she had often seen in her father's. "How much?"

"I don't know – fifty galleons?"

He laughed. "Rowena, that's barely enough for a couple of the things. Two hundred."

"One hundred and fifty."

She could hardly believe she was bargaining with her brother for lives.

"One seventy."

"Done," she said, disgusted with herself.

 

She sold her ring in the market for two hundred galleons, and cried as she handed it over. But her eyes were dry as she handed the money to Roderick, silently cursing him to Hades. Fifty house elves were to return to Hogsmeade with her, and she didn't like to think of Albert's face when he saw who was going to stay in his inn. She was free of her father and brother. She was free to do as she wished. So why was she still not happy?


	5. Chapter 5

The mood was still morose, especially since Rowena had left. Salazar, Helga and Godric sat together, having a drink, only the occasional smile or laugh exchanged.

"I wonder when she's coming back," Godric said eventually.

Helga drank her butterbeer, feeling unexpectedly like there was a rock in her chest. She thought of Rowena, her beautiful eyes, her laugh, her visible pain -  
Her stomach squeezed. What if she didn't come back? What if she decided to stay at home after all, or - of found a husband, or decided that she didn't need their help in building the castle at all.........  
Good Heavens, what if she was dead? What if her portkey (Helga had no experience of the things and so her imagination went wild) had malfunctioned, had hurt her, killed her?  
She felt like she was going to puke.  
There was the sound of a portkey from outside, and several patrons of the pub looked up in surprise. Godric was the first to rise, and went outside. A moment later he returned, a grin spreading across his face. "Helga, Sal, you're going to want to see this!"

Surprised, Helga put down her drink and went outside. Her jaw dropped. Rowena, surrounded by no less than fifty house elves, all dressed in ragged clothes and looking around them warily. They were attracting a lot of attention, but Helga noticed none of it, wanted to run forward and throw her arms around her, protect her from whatever was making her feel the way her eyes looked. She wanted to run her hands through her hair and kiss her face and tell her everything was going to be alright......... "Rowena!" Godric called, shocking her out of her daze.

She looked up, away from the elves. She looked tired and haggard in the light of the street, but she smiled faintly. "Surprise."

"Where did you get these?"

"And where are you going to keep them?" Albert asked, his arms folded.

The last question was solved, as a nearby farmer said that as long as they helped him out, the house elves could stay in his barn for nothing. They were so grateful they almost wept, and went on their way after Bellona gave Rowena a tight hug, squeaked "Thank you Miss Rowena!" and ran off.

"Wherever did you get them?" Salazar asked her as they sat down.

"They were my father's."

"He passed away," Salazar said, understanding.

She nodded. Helga reached out her hand to comfort her, but Rowena shoved both of hers under the table, and, hurt, she retracted it.

"So your brother said you could have them?" She said, trying to make her voice cheerful. "That was jolly nice of him."

"Yes," she said, looking down at the glossed wood of the table. "It was."

Godric caught her afterwards, just before she went up to bed. Being from a rich family himself that owned lots of house eleves, and hearing stories about the elder Ravenclaw, he wasn't convinced. "Rowena, did you pay for them?"

She sighed and rubbed tired eyes. "Yes. Not much."

"That many elves would have cost a lot. And you said your father had no more money left."

She slumped. "Fine. I sold some stuff, alright?"

She tried to move away, but he kept hold of her. "What stuff?"

"My mother's ring," she mumbled.

His grip slackened. "But...that was all you had left of her."

"Yes," she said simply, then departed for bed as he stared after her.

  
Helga decided to grasp the bull by the horns. It was now almost three weeks since the incident had taken place, and there was nothing else to do. Rowena had become even more reclusive since her father's death, and Helga gave her space, as she knew what it was like. Instead, she visited the house elves, brought them clothes, which they refused, and food, which they didn't. But after a time, she decided to go up and see Rowena. It was obvious the woman was hurting, and despite any past grievances, Helga couldn't bear to think of another human in pain. She brought a tray of supper for an excuse, climbed the stairs slowly, and knocked on the door gently, balancing the tray. "Rowena?"

"Yes?" Her voice sounded much the same as usual, if a little more tired.

"May I come in? I have some supper for you."

A shuffling noise. "I'm not hungry."

She bit her lip. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm worried about you, Rowena. Please, let me in. I know things have been....tough, between us, but please let me talk to you."

A hesitation, and then there was a click, and the door swung open. Rowena was sitting by her desk, a large stack of papers beside her. Helga closed the door behind her, the tray rattling. Rowena's hair was in a messy dark ponytail, looking shoved out of the way. Dark shadows were under her eyes, and Helga worried she hadn't slept. She laid the tray on the desk.

"I'm not hungry."

"You might be, later. At least drink some tea."

She didn't answer. Taking this for acceptance, Helga poured milk into it, then asked "Sugar?"

Rowena shook her head. She stirred, then handed her the cup. Rowena stared into it.

Helga sat slowly on the nearby bed, smiling slightly. "I haven't poisoned it."

This got no smile in return. She sipped it slowly.

"Rowena, what happened?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Something clearly happened that shook you."

She put down the cup after only two sips. "My father died, Helga."

"I know."

"He died penniless. A miserable old man. And I just...." She ran her hands through her hair, then looked up at the ceiling, eyes glittering. "I barely knew him. I was his daughter and I wasn't there as he died."

"Oh Rowena," Helga said softly. "That wasn't your fault."

She looked down again, at Helga, and there was a little pause.

Helga spoke. "You've been avoiding me."

It wasn't a question, nor an accusation, just a simple statement.

Rowena drew a breath and nodded. "Yes."

"It hurt."

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to do this, this....thing."

"Neither do I," Helga whispered. "I'm sorry too."

"What for?" Rowena asked, in apparent amazement.

"I shouldn't have kissed you like that."

"Oh Helga," Rowena said softly. "It was just as much my fault, and - and only a kiss, easily forgotten....."

She stared. The idea of it being labelled as _only a kiss_ was almost shocking, as it had meant so much to her.  
"It wasn't only a kiss," she managed. "It was - I don't know what it was. I.....I'm not sure if if it's right, but I wanted you. I mean....I know I'm supposed to want men and supposed to like to kiss men, but I don't, I don't, I want to kiss you."

Slowly, Rowena stood, and moved over beside her, her movement mesmerising as she sat beside her, Helga's face burning. "So do I," she whispered, her mouth sounding terribly dry. She licked her lips, something that made Helga shiver. "Very much."

Slowly and awkwardly, Helga leaned forward, her heart thumping, and their lips met. Helga gasped against her mouth as she felt the magic in the air, amplified by a million. Rowena's lips were warm, her hair under her hands soft, and she longed to undo it, to feel her hair flowing through her fingers as she pulled back, both breathing hard, Rowena with something in her eyes that looked rather like tears. Helga whispered, "Are you crying?"

"No," she said, unconvincingly as a tear trickled from her eye and she broke away, wiping it. "I - I'm rather tired. It's been a tiresome week or two."

Helga began to rise. "I'll leave you to sleep, then-"

"No," Rowena pleaded, reaching out her hand to clasp hers, stopping her. "Please stay with me, Helga. I cannot – I cannot sleep, these days."

So Helga climbed on top of the sheets, and Rowena lay her head on her shoulder, and closed her eyes. "Helga," she whispered again.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me a story?"

"I'm not very good at making things up."

"No," Rowena said, shifting her head slightly so that her hair tickled Helga's neck.

"A story about you. Tell me about Helga."

"It's not very interesting."

"I don't mind, dear."

Helga felt a little ridiculous surge at being called "dear."

"Well.....I was born on April 22nd, in Wales, almost twenty two years ago."

"You're a Taurus," Rowena murmured, the spot where her head lay getting warm.

"Am I? What does that mean?"

She heard a smile in her voice. "By the ancient Greeks. The way the stars were aligned that day. I am an Aquarius. The symbol for mine is a water carrier."

"And what's the symbol for mine?" Helga was growing uncomfortable with Rowena's head on her neck. But she didn't want to disrupt her. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Sorry."

Rowena moved her head, and then they were both lying side by side in the narrow single bed, and Helga was looking into her pale face, the candlelight casting flickering shadows across it. Her eyes were closed, and she nestled, seemingly unconsciously, into Helga's side. She fit perfectly and naturally, as though the spot had been made for her. Helga's skin burned where Rowena's long fingers brushed it, and she longed to have the courage to kiss her once more, feel her in her hands, touch her and feel every inch of her - she felt herself blush furiously. This feeling was unfamiliar to her, and rather frightening. She was't sure she liked it. Rowena seemed not to notice her burning face, though her fingers moved to brush slightly off Helga's. "The sign for Taurus is a bull," Rowena continued

"A bull?" She asked, amused.

"Yes. I imagine it's supposed to signify running headfirst into situations."

"That sounds more like Godric."

"I suppose."

"What do you think sounds better?"

"Hmm," her voice held humour as she said "A girl who dances in the rain."

Helga laughed quietly. There was quiet, and then Rowena said "You can go now, if you want, Helga."

Surprised, she said "Do you want me to go?"

"No."

"Then I'm staying."

"For how long?"

"However long you want me."

"What if I said forever?"

"Then forever it shall be."

When Helga woke, her limbs were stiff from lying against the wall. Early morning sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating Rowena, who was asleep, her hair spread across Helga's arm. Her clothes were crumpled, and her face, when asleep, was open and unguarded, her features perfect and beautiful. They were lying together in such a way that was unfamiliar to her, and she could hear Rowena's deep breaths, along with feeling her heartbeat. Helga tried to get past her without waking her, but she made a little snuffling noise, then said "Helga?"

"Yes?" She whispered.

Rowena cracked open her eyes. "It's morning, then."

"Yes," Helga smiled at her, because she couldn't think of much else to do.

There was a pause. "Can I kiss you?" Rowena asked, seemingly reading her thoughts.

"Yes," she laughed, and then Rowena sat up and gently pressed her lips to hers, cupping her chin as the kiss grew deeper, then pulling back and laughing softly. "Oh Helga."

"Rowena," she whispered, smiling at her. "Can I kiss you again?"

She didn't reply, instead kissing her so hard it felt like the world was stopping on its axis.

Helga broke away first, and they stared at each other for a minute, each smiling until Helga was distracted by the shine of metal and saw the tray with its now cold tea and toast.

"Time to get ready, then," she said, rising, but then stopped, looking at her hand curiously. "Where is your ring? Your mother's one."

Rowena stretched before answering. "Ow. It's in my dresser. Why?"

"I've just never seen you without it."

"Why are we talking about rings?" She rose, yawning, then smiled at her again, the smile that made her feel weak. "I'm famished. Let's get some breakfast."

********

_November, Scotland, 985 AD_

Due to the Incident, and Rowena's father's death, Helga's English reading lessons had been put on temporary hiatus. But as rain pattered against the glass of the window and a headache threatened in her mind, Rowena chose a more difficult book than the children's one they had been reading before. Her dreams the night before had been full of eyes, some she recognised and some she didn't, Helga's warm brown and Salazar's cool grey, Godric's bright green, her father's black, a scarlet pair that made her rather uneasy, flashing through her head and keeping her from sleep.   
Today, Helga was having trouble reading English, as opposed to her fluid Welsh, and for what must have been the tenth time sighed and looked up. She wasn't her usual cheerful self either, her brow wrinkled. The night they had spent together, and the few kisses exchanged, had not been mentioned, and nor had the silly promise. However, Helga became far more relaxed around her, and often smiled at her in a way that she was sure was just for her, excepting company. However, Rowena's past was rearing its ugly head, and fear of rejection made her once again avoid her friends and.....and Helga. The fact that she no longer fit into the bracket of a friend bothered her much less than it should have.

"The words wriggle away from me like worms. Why do the letters make such different sounds?"

Rowena pinched the bridge of her nose and tried not to grow annoyed. "I gave you some cards. Did you sound out the letters?"

"I tried, but it - it's so confusing, Rowena! I mean, you can look at something, and you can have the look of something, you can read something or have read something, and they're spelt the same bloody way!"

Normally, Helga's annoyance would be endearing, but today, when her temper was short and her mind fuzzy, she half snapped, "Well, let's get back to it then."

Helga stared at her. "Are you alright, Rowena?"

She sighed, running her hands through her hair. "It's of no real concern. Come, finish the chapter and that shall be it for today."

Helga was still looking at her worriedly.

"Before Hogmanay comes, Helga."

She looked rather hurt. "Why are you being so cruel?"

Helga looked around at the empty room before lowering her voice. "You - you know what happened between us, Rowena - why are you pretending it didn't happen?"

Rowena thought of her longing to kiss her, the longing to feel her hair underneath her fingers and kiss her golden freckles, to know every inch of her as though she were her own. She thought of her father, of his anger, of the venomous words he spat at her. He was dead, but she had never seen his body, in her mind he represented everything she had ever feared. She thought of the muggles who were sometimes burned in the village below, how you could smell the smoke and acrid flesh for hours. "You don't know what they'd do to us," she said, voice shaking slightly. "We can't-"

She had spoken without thinking, and Helga's eyes flashed. "I don't know?" She hissed, leaning over the table. "I don't know, when I watched my father burn? When I was almost burned myself for something I could not control, something that was imbedded as deep in my veins as your magic is, and yet it was simply because of my parentage?"

Guilt crashed down on her. "Helga, I - I forgot-"

"Yes," she said, voice shaking from the angry tears that had cropped up in her eyes. "Yes, you always forget, don't you?"

She walked quickly from the room, gathering her arms around herself as Rowena put her head in her hands.

Guilt weighed down on her all day. While Rowena was often sharp - and she was, her nursemaid had called her tongue a sword as a child - she always felt guilty after she calmed down. It was obviously inherited from her father, something she hated. However, while he would never apologise or appear to feel regret for the horrible things said, regret and guilt would weigh her down long after the person in question had departed, and it was a thousand times worse with Helga. She retired to her room and locked herself in, but when she tried to read, the words simply echoed Helga's, and when she tried to write, she found herself unknowingly writing her name. When she lay down and closed her eyes, trying to sleep, she simply saw Helga, felt her lips and imagined her touch......  
A crash startled her out of being half asleep, and she sat up quickly, pointing her wand at her candle so that it flared. Nothing in her room appeared to be amiss.  
Helga weighed on her mind again, Helga Helga Helga, the fact that her room was two over, and she slid out of bed, mind fuzzy. The hall was quiet, as it was late, and only the occasional sound of people making merry downstairs crept up through the floorboards. Rowena knocked gently on Helga's door.

"Who's there?"

"I," she said quietly. "That is to say - Rowena."

"Oh," she said, and the lock clicked.

Rowena hesitantly made her way inside. Helga's room, as she had noticed the previous brief time of being inside, was rather bare compared to her own. The only personal touches were her wand, sitting on the wooden dresser, a potted plant that quivered violently beside it, and her usual robes, washed and neatly hung. Helga herself was not in bed, but gently stroking the quivering little tentacles of the plant, in her worn nightgown, her blonde hair down her back. "It's alright, Thea," she whispered, and Rowena said feebly, "I - I heard a noise. I was a little worried."

Now that she was here, and properly awake, she felt excessively stupid. Helga looked up from the plant, brown eyes wary. "Thea fell," she replied. "It's alright now. She's a little irritable because she's teething."

"Teething.....?"

"Venomous Tentacula," she answered, and Rowena exclaimed, "Helga, they're terribly dangerous!"

The thought of actually stroking one was absurd, and she moved forward as though to pull Helga back, but the other woman held out a warning hand.

"She doesn't like strangers. And they're just protecting themselves, right Thea? Do you want to stroke her?"

Rowena blinked. The only time she had ever been so close to one of these was studying them with her governess.

"Go on," she said encouragingly. "She won't bite - well, not yet anyhow."

Rowena hesitantly reached out a wary hand, and the plant ceased its shivering, instead making a noise rather like a child's snoring.

Helga laughed gently. "She's fallen back asleep."

Helga was like a mother to her plants, Rowena realised. She treated them like her babies. "Um," she said, licking her dry lips. "I just came to - to apologise."

Helga straightened from Thea. "I too," she said quietly. "I think I was rather abrupt. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me."

"Mine too," she answered, awkwardly rubbing her neck. "I just - I did not get much sleep, and then-"

Helga nodded slowly, fingers with bitten nails fidgeting with the slightly yellowed sleeve on her nightgown. Rowena's eyes lingered perhaps a second too long, as she then shoved her hands behind her back. Rowena had never been accustomed to true luxury, as unlike her brother, she had never been given any kind of allowance. She had relied solely on her father, and hated him for it, preferring to live the simplest way she could. But now, with his money gone, she lived quite comfortably, as Godric insisted on paying for her board and meals - something she hated, and would pay him back as soon as she could. But even that was nothing like the apparent poverty Helga had lived in. Once, a short time after they had met, the other woman had briefly mentioned, as though it were nothing, walking from a village in the north of Wales to Hogsmeade, in a completely different country, with only a few galleons of her wages and the clothes she stood up in, which made Rowena admire her in a way she had never before admired anyone.

"I'm sorry too," she murmured finally, twisting a curl of her hair. "I was just - I sent a letter to Gwyneth......"

"And?" She asked gently.

"It was sent back. The seal wasn't broken, and I -"

Tears bloomed in her eyes. "I don't know if I wrote it properly anyway," she mumbled. "I just....I hoped-"

"That she might respond?"

"Mm," she wiped absentmindedly at her eyes. "It was a desperate attempt anyhow.....I don't think she can read."

Seconds ticked by. "Do you need a hug?"

She nodded, tearing up properly, extending her arms. "Please hug me, Rowena."

Rowena did so, and buried her head in the softness of Helga's hair as she cried gently. "Helga," she whispered. "She'll come around."

If she was completely honest, there was a small, selfish little part of her that wished she never would, because she knew that all it would take was one letter, and Helga would return to Wales, leaving her.

"She won't, she hates me," Helga wept. "It was all my fault, all - my - stupid - fault-"

Rowena had never asked her properly about what had happened, because Helga never looked ready to talk about it, and now was no exception. She took a heaving breath, and pulled back, her eyes red. "I'm sorry."

"Not at all. Anytime you need a hug, just ask."

A little smile tugged at her mouth. "You too, then."

"Can I have a hug now then?"

Helga hugged her so tightly it felt she would never let go, then kissed her cheek, and then, hesitatingly, her lips.


	6. Chapter 6

_April, Scotland, 986 AD_

When Rowena was getting ready for bed one night, she found a little package on her bed stand. Frowning, she opened it, and her jaw fell open as her mother's ring fell out, sapphires winking at her in the candlelight. But how..... She rose after a moment, clutching the ring, and went across the landing to Godric's room, knocked firmly on the door. He answered it after a moment, seemingly having been in bed as he was in his nightclothes, and yawned.

"Rowena?"

"Might you be able to explain this?" She held up the ring.

He smiled. "Looks like the fairies paid you a visit."

"Godric, what were you thinking? How much did it cost?"

"I was thinking that it was a pity the thing my friend loved so much was gone, and I wanted to cheer her up. It cost little."

"Godric, I sold it for two hundred."

"Well I bought it for two hundred and fifty," he said cheerfully, as if it was a competition.

She shook her head dazedly. "I can't accept this, Godric, I'm sorry-"

He closed her fingers around it. "Please, Rowena. It was your mother's, and so it's yours. It would be more of an insult to give it back, you know."

She hesitated. "Godric....I can't pay you back."

"What are friends for? Now piss off, I need my sleep."

She went back to her room after wishing him goodnight, and slid it back onto her finger in the familiar place it had always lay.

 

Helga went to Rowena's room later that night. They usually spent part of the night together, just talking for hours, learning about each other, without the promise of anything more, each other's presence enough. She had a candle burning, one that was scented - it smelled like roses.

She climbed into her bed, which had been enlarged, and Rowena whispered with a smile "Hello."

"Hello," she replied with her own smile, becoming lost in those beautiful blue eyes as she sat down. There was something she wanted to ask, and she said carefully "Rowena, what was your father like?"

She did not think, from what she had heard about him, that he had been very nice. This was confirmed as she gave a little sigh. "He wasn't very nice, Helga. Very distant. He blamed me for my mother's death."

"That's horrible," Helga whispered. Her sister had blamed her for their mother's death, and it had been terrible.

"Yes well," Rowena said, staring back at her. "I was....I was quite frightened of him. I rarely saw him, usually left in the care of my nursemaid or my governess, when I did my lessons. I spent much of my childhood fruitlessly trying to please him until I realised I never could."

Tentatively, Helga reached out and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, her hand lingering. "I'm sorry."

"You say that far too much, Helga," she replied. "You're not responsible for other people's actions."

"I know," she sighed. "But if I could take all of your pain – because I can see you're hurting – I would."

Unexpectedly, tears bloomed in Rowena's eyes. "What is it?" She asked, worried she had upset her. Rowena smiled through her tears. "That's such a beautiful thing to say, Helga."

"Is it?"

"Yes. And I – I'm so sorry for hurting you, when I avoided you."

"I forgive you."

"It was just because," she whispered. "I kept thinking of what my father would say, of what everybody would have said."

"Because you kissed a girl," Helga smiled.

"Yes, I suppose."

There was a brief pause before she said again, "I never....I never knew why I was like that. I've courted before, you know. I didn't like it and I tried to convince myself that it was simply because I was nervous about it, not that I didn't love him, because he was quite kind. I do not think he cared for me so much either. He must have been relieved."

She sighed again.

"You couldn't help that, though. And...." Helga broke off, a flush rising to her cheeks. "I've never courted anyone."

"Never?" Rowena asked in surprise.

"No. I mean - there was a kiss or two at dances, but there was never anything serious."

She gave a small, slightly hesitant smile. "Would you like something serious with me?"

"I - I think so-"

"If it is not too impertinent to ask," she finished hurriedly.

Helga smiled. "Of course not, you silly billy."

Rowena rolled her eyes skywards.

"It's better than using dirty words," she defended. She was finding that there were three very different sides to Rowena; there was the chatty, funny one she was around friends, the cold, aloof, withdrawn and hurtful one she became sometimes, seemingly for no reason at all, and then the wonderful, hilarious, soft Rowena that she saw right in front of her now. There seemed no hesitation in her eyes at all, that she was sure that she wanted Helga, but Helga herself knew that that wasn't entirely trustworthy.

Rowena smirked. "What's wrong with a good old fucking curse?"

"Nothing particularly," she said primly. "But my father would have had a fit if he caught me or Gwyneth swearing."

Rowena sat herself up. "Dick. Bastard. Bloody. Bollocks."

"Rowena, stop."

"Cunt. Bitch. Whore. Fanny."

"Stooooooooooppp," she moaned. "You're just being childish now."

Rowena pushed herself forward even more, looking as though throughly enjoying this. "Fuck. Clitoris. Labia."

Helga covered her pure little ears with her pillow.

"Sex, scrotum, penis, sperm."

"I don't even know what half these words are," she said, voice muffled. "And I don't wish to."

"Really, Helga, did you never have a biology lesson?"

"I don't know. What kind of insane governess did you have?"

"She was like you. I just read some things that probably weren't appropriate-"

"That's enough," Helga said, before she began quoting them, lowering the pillow. "Please."

Rowena peered at her red face. "My poor little embarrassed potato."

She paused. "Potato?"

Rowena looked thoughtful. "Hmm, yes. Shall you allow yourself to be my sweet little Welsh potato?"

Helga smiled back, not truly wishing to admit to the unfurling joy in her chest, half frightened she could not trust her, just like her old friends back in Wales, who had abandoned her when the time came. "If you wish. But I think it is time to sleep, if you want to be able to think straight tomorrow."

This was something else she liked about staying with Rowena - she knew that without her presence the other woman would spend all night hunched over her desk, reading and writing, and the next day would be wandering aimlessly with dark circles under her eyes.

However, it was shortly after they blew out the candle that Rowena whispered, "Helga, were you very poor in Wales?"

"Hmm?" She replied sleepily. "Not really, others are worse."

"I don't know. But did you - did you have enough to eat every night, and such?"

She sounded so unsure about the lives of muggles that it made Helga smile slightly. They were lying, not quite touching, but close enough that she could feel Rowena's breath, and she wondered if she wanted her as much as she did.

"Yes, usually. If it was stormy, and Pa couldn't go out at sea, there was potatoes and such, and fish kept cool."

"You're like my own little lesson on muggles," she murmured. "I always did wonder, you know. How do you cope?"

This did make her laugh, rolling onto her back. "Spoiled little witch girl."

Rowena elbowed her. "Truly! You know, I heard you don't even have _books_."

She laughed again at the horror in her voice. "It's true," Helga managed, looking up at the ceiling, which was barely visible. "I never saw a book until I came to work in magic castles."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Rowena was leaning over her, suspending herself by leaning on her elbows. "Are you being truly honest?"

She couldn't stop laughing. "Oh Rowena, you are funny. How could we? Barely any of us can read, and we cannot copy them like you can."

"Well - well can't you handwrite them?" She asked desperately. "Surely children use them in school?"

"That would take forever, Rowena. And school isn't much prized when you need to work to eat."

Another sharp horrified breath. "Helga Hufflepuff! And here I was thinking muggles had schools of their own - why are you laughing? Are you jesting with me?"

"No," she managed, almost wheezing. "No - it's true. It's why I wanted to teach with you three. Oh Rowena, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you wanted the school in the first place?"

"No! It was just for purebloods, first, and then you persuaded me-"

Helga was growing rather lightheaded with their bodies touching the way they were. Rowena continued, seemingly oblivious. "But I thought they could at least read! Oh Helga!"

"Yes," Helga agreed. "They cannot."

There was a pause. She could practically hear the cogs of Rowena's brain turning, and felt the warmth of her body through the cloth of the blanket.

"But your clothes," she said after a moment, seemingly thinking. "You know I could alter some of mine-"

"I will not take charity," she said firmly, channeling her late mother. Eluend Hufflepuff had certainly not had much, but had prided herself on not taking from others.

Rowena sighed. "But you must be freezing in that tatty old nightgown. How long have you had it?"

"A few years," she replied carefully, not wanting to admit it had been Gwyneth's beforehand.

Rowena hesitated, and then gently bent her head and kissed her, softly at first and then harder, and Helga relaxed beneath her, responding until she pulled back and said breathlessly, "Sorry."

"For what?" She replied, just as breathlessly.

Her lips were tingling with the memory of Rowena's, and she could hear her jumpy breathing, hoping she would kiss her again.

"Kissing is strange," Rowena murmured instead, after a moment.

"What?" Helga asked, slightly disappointed.

"I mean, it's just like - "let me put my tongue in your mouth and show how much I care for you."

"It feels nice. Especially kissing you."

A pause. "Have you kissed a lot of people then?"

Rowena's voice was strange, and the odd question made her laugh. "Not at all. Two boys, and it was on the lips only. It wasn't nearly as nice as kissing you."

"You're so nice, Helga. I imagine I kiss like a suction tube. I haven't had much practice."

Helga laughed. "Neither have I. Do you think we should practice some more?"

Rowena smiled in the dark, and it felt it against her lips as she kissed her lightly before murmuring, "Definitely."

  
When morning came, sunlight shone through the closed white curtain, and Helga slowly opened her eyes. She was lying only a few inches away from Rowena, and could feel her warm breath as she breathed deeply. She could see the pores on her face, and the soft curve of her lips, her nose, her hair, which pooled atop the white pillow, feel the weight of her arm, which lay across Helga's waist. Magic was heavy in the air, and her eyes opened slowly, blinking, and she yawned as Helga smiled. "Hello," she whispered. The pattern of the blind made little lights dance across Rowena's black hair.

She smiled back. "Hello," she whispered in return. "Sleep alright?"

The absurdity of the question made them both laugh, and Helga answered after a moment, "Very well, actually. Better than usual."

"Mm. I too."

Her eyes seemed slightly unsure, but she leaned forward and kissed her, burying her fingers in her black hair before Rowena pulled away. "Don't you help with breakfast?"

"Not for another hour," she replied, and then teased gently,  "Do you want to get rid of me that fast?"

"Of course not. I....."

She broke off and smiled again, then gently raised her hand to twist a curl around her finger, watching as it lengthened and then letting it spring back into place. "I never knew it was possible to become so.....intoxicated with one person. I don't want you to leave."

"Is that odd?"

"For me, yes. I hate most people. I can tolerate Godric and Salazar....."

She nibbled her lip. "Helga, I have the strangest feelings for you."

"So do I," she whispered back, and then, "I rather think I love you."

A second, and then the blankets shifted as Rowena sat up.

"Rowena?"

"Mm," she said, reaching for the goblet by her bed and taking a drink of water. "I.....well....."

She seemed flustered, and Helga felt a slight flush creep over her cheeks. "I understand if you don't feel the same way," she said hurriedly. "I just-"

"Nobody's ever said that to me before," Rowena said finally, making her stop.

"Not even your father?"

She snorted softly, uncertainly tracing the eagle symbol on the goblet. "It would be more likely the opposite. Helga-"

Rather suddenly, she put down the goblet and turned, and for a moment, she thought she saw something like tears sparkling in her eyes, before she blinked and they were gone, instead smiling. "Oh Helga, you're sweet. I....well."

"Well?" She whispered, sitting up and hesitantly brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Well," she whispered back.


	7. Chapter 7

_May, Scotland, 986 AD_

 

An owl came for Godric, depositing a letter. He frowned as he read it, and Helga sniffed the air. "Ooh, it's scented. It smells like roses."

"It's from Mother. She's having a ball."

She was always having some ball or other. He rolled his eyes. "Rubbish."

"A ball sounds rather fun," Helga said in surprise.

Rowena spoke. Godric had noticed that in the past few months she had come out of her shell far more, looking healthier and happier. He was glad. He had really begun to see that Helga was right, and underneath all the ice there was a nice person. "They're not, believe you me. You have to wear pretty gowns that are laced so tight you can barely breathe and behave properly, and nibble your food not eat. You have to dance delicately, not exuberantly, and during the dance you must sit as though faint, and have your gentleman bring you a drink."

She rattled this all off as the others stared at her. "Rules, dears, rich people have to follow."

"Well it's not quite the same," Godric said finally. "But no doubt Mother will be pushing me to marry. It's a shame, really, I quite like dancing. I'd go alone, only they don't let you in."

He looked thoughtfully at Rowena. "Not a chance," she said, daintily brushing crumbs from her mouth. He turned his gaze to Helga. A dawning horror came upon her. "I can't dance. And I don't have a dress suitable."

"Easily sorted," he said happily.

 

 

Helga looked at herself in the mirror, at the yellow dress robes Godric had bought her, and sighed. "I don't look good at all, do I?"

"You look beautiful, dear," Rowena said from beside her, turning to examine her own figure. She had forgone a corset ("They hurt like Hades, Helga") but her waist was still impressively slim under her blue dress. Her hair was loose at the back, little plaits at the front. "You look beautiful," Helga told her, and kissed her. She could never get enough of kissing Rowena. She still couldn't quite believe she was allowed to touch her, even as her arms slid around her waist.

"You don't have freckles."

"Freckles are adorable, Helga."

To prove her point, Rowena kissed each one of them on Helga's nose, making her laugh. "Stop, stop, I mustn't laugh! I must learn to hold myself like a Regal Lady," she said, capitalising the words, making herself stop laughing.

Rowena laughed. "Alright then. First, you must hold your back straight. No hunching."

Helga did so, and she nodded, impressed. "Excellent. You make your face as though you are bored. No smiling or frowning, as they wrinkle your forehead."

She assumed a perfect cool expression. Helga tried, and Rowena lost her cool as she burst out laughing. "Sorry, Helga, but you look like you're constipated. Just relax your face."

She did so.

"Keep it. Now, if there are refreshments available, you do not eat, you _nibble_. It's unseemly to eat in public."

"Really?" She asked.

"Yes. And it also makes your corset hurt even more. Now, walk like this," she sashayed perfectly in a line. "No man wants an ogre."

"But we don't want men," Helga pointed out.

"Yes, well," she allowed. "Come on."

Helga walked in a line, holding her back straight, her face impassive.

"Perfect. You may catch a husband, Helga," she teased, and Helga rolled her eyes. "Why are you rich people so obsessed with getting husbands?"

"So the women can have sons and therefore save property. If she doesn't have sons, she's next to useless."

"That's horrible!" Helga thought of her own mother, and her two daughters, along with the stillborn girl that she had never known.

Rowena shrugged. "It's the way our messed up society works. Here, Helga, do you want some scent?"

"Ooh, scent!" She said, almost having forgotten, spraying a little on her wrists and chest, as instructed by Rowena. "How do I smell?"

Rowena sniffed her wrist. "Lovely. But you smelled better a moment ago."

"But a moment ago I only smelled like me."

"Exactly."

There was a knock on the door. "Ready, girls?"

"Yes!" Rowena called, looking in the mirror and straightening her silver sash. Godric was wearing scarlet, which should have looked terrible with his hair, but instead set the colour off. Salazar was wearing deep green, and came in behind him.

"You look appealing," Salazar told them.

"Appealing? They look beautiful!" Godric picked Helga up and swung her around, and she squealed with delight.

"Godric!" Rowena scolded. "Put her down. She's overexcited enough."

"She's not a child."

"She may as well be, this is her First Ball, Godric, that's important for a young lady."

Her mouth twitched as she said it. "Goodness, I sound like my nursemaid."

 

Lady Gryffindor was a tall woman with brown hair that was streaked with silver. Her husband was slightly smaller, and he had red hair that was thinning. They both smiled. "Are you two courting?" Lady Gryffindor asked, her gaze settling on the arm Godric rested on Helga's. He removed it quickly. "Just here as friends."

"Hmm. Well, it is nice to see my youngest son again."

Godric and Helga began to dance, and Helga laughed. It was so much fun, spinning like a top, then being caught by Godric. Years of practise had made him a master, but he slowed down for her clumsier steps, swinging her exuberantly, attracting glances. Salazar and Rowena were dancing more demurely, classically, perfectly. Helga caught Rowena's eye, and she winked as Salazar dipped her down so low she almost hit the floor, but his skilled hand caught her perfectly in time. "I'm rather hot," Helga said eventually, when her face felt red with excitement, and she couldn't stop smiling. "Let's sit."

"I'll get some punch," he said, as she went to sit. A moment later, Rowena joined her. Salazar was dancing with a blonde girl, looking bored. Rowena and Helga watched him happily for a moment, before their view was blocked. A man with dark hair bowed, and it took Helga a moment to realise it was to her, not Rowena. "Dance with me, lady?"

"Oh. No thank you."

"Why not?" He asked, his charming smile slipping. He was clearly One Of Those, as Rowena had told her about.

"She doesn't wish to," Rowena spoke for her, and she smiled gratefully.

He sneered at her. "I wasn't talking to you."

She scowled at him, five seconds away from taking out her wand. Thankfully, Godric was coming with the drinks, and he sized up the situation quickly, handing Rowena the drinks, and sliding his arm around Helga's shoulder. "This man bothering you, darling?"

The man saw Godric's size. "I was just leaving," he mumbled, departing.

"Thank you Godric," Helga sighed gratefully as he lifted his arm.

"Now Helga," Rowena said, fanning herself daintily, apparently really getting into the part."That was One Of Those."

"I did notice," Helga said, and they sipped their drinks before another girl came over to kidnap Godric. It was a moment before the floating instruments that were playing alone changed to something much faster than the waltz that had previously been playing, and Rowena put down her drink, and turned to her. "Dance with me?"

To which Helga replied something utterly stupid, except she was too shocked to hear the words properly. Something that sounded like "Um, ah, here?"

"No, Helga, I was asking about tonight," Rowena rolled her eyes and smiled at her.

"Um....won't people see?"

"They're too busy dancing. And if they do, I'll hide us. I promise."

"Alright."

Helga took her hand and they went to the floor, spinning wildly, laughing as their hair whipped around, dancing with a grace that had been missing with Godric. Perhaps people were staring, but Helga didn't notice, and she didn't care, because all that mattered was Rowena as she laughed, throwing back her head.

 

_July, Scotland, 986 AD_

 

Hogwarts was big enough now, that they could move in. Their house elves came to, staying in the kitchens as they preferred. To keep up the pretence, Helga and Rowena took separate quarters on the first floor. The other floors moved around continuously, as they had not been told where to settle, Godric and Salazar arguing again. It was Rowena that had the idea. "We should have houses."

"Houses?" Helga asked.

"Yes!" She was excited. "It would stop this bickering. For instance, Godric would have, I don't know, the brave, Salazar....cunning, and I don't think there's any point teaching children if they're all as dull as bricks-"

"That's not fair," Helga interjected.

"But how would we sort them?" Salazar asked.

Godric looked thoughtful. "Hmm."

 

"Your hat?" Salazar asked, as Godric put it on the table.

"Yes."

"What does it do?" Rowena asked.

A small rip at the brim of the hat spoke "You can speak to me, you know."

They blinked. A smile spread across her face. "Alright then. What do you do?"

"I sit atop a child's head and decide which house they should be in."

"But how do we know it's right?" Helga asked.

Godric picked up the hat, and put it on her head. After a moment, it said "You're a Hufflepuff for sure."

"Well done," Salazar's voice dripped with sarcasm. "What else can it do? Sing a tune? Dance, perhaps?"

"I'm sure I could sing better than you," the hat sniffed.

 

  
A letter came for Helga, on crude parchment, panicked and scrawled in childlike letters.

_Helga_

_You dont no me but Im your niece Catrin_

_Mum is sick becuz shes pregnant and the doctor says she mite die_

_My pa is out working most of the tiem and Im realle scared_

_Im sorry becuz you dont no me but Mum mite die and I no shell want to see you_

_Im sorry about the writing to but I cant spell well_

_Catrin_

  
"What is it?" Rowena asked quietly from beside her. "It's my niece, I think. She says Gwyneth is ill."

"Misfortune everywhere," She murmured, and reached for her hand under the table. Helga clasped it gratefully.

"Are you going to Wales?" Godric asked her, his brow creased slightly in worry.

She swallowed. She hadn't told them, and how could she? The townspeople had given her an ultimatum: stay and die, or leave and never come back. But her sister was dying. It was all she could do to hope that old wounds had healed. "Yes. I cannot leave the poor child in this state."

She took a portkey to Wales exactly as the clock struck nine, her friends standing to wish  her goodbye. The breath was knocked out of her as the world spun. When it right itself, she was standing on earth, it early morning sun. She could hear children playing nearby, and almost when light headed with memories that flooded back. Here was her father and mother, Gwyneth on his shoulders and Helga holding her mother's hand, laughing. Here were two little girls playing tag, one with blonde hair, the other red. Here was Gwyneth forcing her to look away as her father screamed and the smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils. Nausea took hold of her again, until she forced the memories down. Focus on the present, Helga, not the past.

The Village hadn't changed much in the few years since she had left. She had travelled around Wales, at first; looking for work until after a year or so she had heard of a wizarding village in Scotland and decided to travel there. And so the adventure had begun.

She tapped her head with her wand, and felt a wave of coldness before it settled. Now she was dressed like any peasant woman, with a brown dress and a shawl.

She hid her wand in her sleeve, and then made her way forward. First, she went to the house they had grown up in. It was ramshackle now, deserted, and it struck her for the first time how very small it was.

Gwyneth's house was slightly bigger, yet still not as much so as some of the houses in Hogsmeade.

Helga knocked on the door, and it was answered by a young boy. He was wearing  a grubby workshirt and short trousers and had a scrub of red hair "Yah?" He said rudely. "Who are you?"

"I am Helga, Gwyneth's sister."

He moved inside soundlessly, and after a moment, she followed.

The room was small and smelled stale. Two little girls sat playing with a cloth doll in the corner, while a slightly bigger girl was feeding a baby, and looked up as they entered. "Who's that?" one of the little girls asked.

The boy shrugged. "She says she's Mum's sister."

They peered at her curiously, then shrugged and went back to the doll. "Catrin?" Helga asked, and the bigger girl nodded, putting down the baby. She had clear blue eyes and curly blonde hair, and her face flooded with relief.

"Did you ask her to come here?" The boy asked, not missing it.

She flushed. "Don't be angry, Aidan, she's going to help!"

It was as if they'd almost forgotten Helga was there.

"We're not supposed to talk to her," he said shortly, before leaving.


	8. Chapter 8

Catrin lead Helga to another, dimmer room, where there was a curled figure in a bed. The sight of her made Helga's stomach drop. She was painfully thin, apart from the almost grotesque bulge of her stomach. Her red hair was lank and dull, loose around her shoulders, and she looked like she'd aged twenty years, not five.

"Did you call for the doctor?" Helga breathed as they drew closer. Catrin nodded. "He won't come back because we can't pay him anymore. Helga.......can you help her?"

She was speaking in Welsh, and as Helga was rusty, it took her a moment to find the words.

"I don't know....."

"Mum? Mum, Helga's here."

There was a little groan. "Helga?"

"Yes? Helga came forward. Gwyneth's blue eyes opened slightly. "You're not supposed to be here."

"I know."

"They'll kill you," she broke out coughing, and Catrin and Helga helped her sit up.

"Catrin, give us space," Gwyneth managed, and she left.

"She's a good child," Gwyneth said, watching her go. "She takes care of me when Rhys isn't here."

"What age is she?"

"Eight."

Helga vaguely remembered receiving news, after Gwyneth had left with her husband, that a girl had been born. She recalled their mother knitting a little pink blanket......  
She'd never met her niece, and it had weighed down her heart. Gwyneth had not even wanted her at her wedding.   
They had been close as children, but had drifted apart once Helga showed signs of magic and Gwyneth hadn't. Gwyneth had left to be married when Helga was fourteen, and that was the last she saw of her until three years later. It had hurt their parents, and Helga (and probably Gwyneth) had wept bitterly.

More coughing. "How far along are you?"

"Seven months, I think."

A pause.

Gwyneth closed her eyes again. It took Helga a moment to say the words. "Do you......do you forgive me?"

"You were only seventeen, Helga. It wasn't your fault."

"You said it was."

She wasn't accusing, just looking for an answer to why, when she had been so scared and alone, when the village had been against her, Gwyneth had not spoken for her. But she could understand, she thought, how the news of her mother murdered and her father and sister being executed might have shocked her.

"I was a fool," Gwyneth murmured. "Jealous and selfish. Do you forgive me?"

"Of course," she hesitated, then fingered her wand, from where it was hidden up her sleeve. "I could help you, you know."

Gwyneth shook her head. "Magic has caused me enough pain, Helga. I won't see it."

Helga nodded, feeling tears bead in her eyes. "How many children do you have?"

This was Helga's pathetic little way of trying to learn about her sister, the sister she barely knew these days.

"Three. This is my fourth. Are you married?"

"No. Not married. My....my friends and I are building a school. For magical children."

She didn't think Gwyneth was going to reply until she murmured "They can do it."

Confused, Helga asked "Pardon?"

"When Aidan was a babe," she said quickly. "One morning I woke, and he was sleeping on the ceiling. Upside down."

Helga felt her mouth open, but before she could say anything, Gwyneth continued, breathing hard. "And one winter, Catrin was crying because all of the roses on the bush were dead. When I went back outside, they were blooming, and she was laughing."

"But don't you see, Gwyneth-" Helga clutched her hands, which were cold. "They deserve to be educated about it, because their magic is beautiful. They can learn to develop it, not be scared into hiding, or even be burned-"

"Stop it, Helga," Gwyneth broke her excited ramble. She sighed and her hand slithered out of Helga's. "I'm tired," she mumbled. "Go and ask Catrin to make you up a bed."

"Goodnight, Gwynnie," she whispered as she stood.

A little tear dribbled down her face. "Don't call me that. That's what – that's what Pa called me."

"I'm sorry," she said softly, leaving the room.

  
There was something Rowena would never have admitted to anyone, and certainly not Helga. She had nightmares. Often, she wondered if they were visions, but brushed it off. Helgs's warming presence staved them away for a while, but when she slept alone, they returned in full force. Now, she tried to calm her breathing, her rapid heart. She was sleeping on the fourth floor now, as she thought it a good number. Four of them, four floors. She shrugged on her blue silk robe, and made her way out to the balcony, breathing in the night air as she wrapped her arms around herself. Little remnants of magic from Hogwarts swirled into the night, and solidified into four animals: A snake, a badger, a lion and an eagle. Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw the eagle and badger intertwine and melt into each other. She looked up at the stars, wondering if Helga saw the same,or if she was fast asleep. She stood there for a moment, looking out across the silvery lake, the dense forest, before going back inside, climbing into bed and falling into an uneasy sleep.

Helga could not sleep either. She tossed and turned in her makeshift bed of rough blankets, but could not drop off to sleep. Lying by the fire, the warmth of it should have enticed her, as it was a lovely guard against the cool night, despite it being summer. However, she could not shake off guilt at the differences between she and her sister, especially as she thought of the small rooms in this cottage, of the slightly sour smell from her blankets. She thought of her own cosy four poster at Hogwarts, often shared with Rowena, the room large and spacious, and then she thought of Gwyneth's rough little mattress, her dim chamber and few possessions. She thought of the children in the village of Hogsmeade, whom despite not being very wealthy were always well fed, and always had proper toys to play with, proper books to learn from, and she thought of little Catrin and her brother, of tiny Anna, who did not look like she received the cow's milk a child her age required. She thought of the usual filling supper of Hogwarts, of the feasts they had at special occasions, and then of the meagre dinner they had had here, once the children Catrin was caring for - At her age! - had returned home. She thought until guilt weighed her down, and was considering rising for a walk when she heard hacking coughing coming from the bedroom.

Helga sat up, wondering if Gwyneth required a drink, or indeed if her husband would fetch it for her. However, she did not call out, nor did anyone appear. "Gwyneth?" She asked softly, pushing herself up from the coarse flooring. The candle had been blown out, but she lit it again with her wand, making her way to the bedroom. Gwyneth's candle was also on, and she was coughing viciously, long red hair swinging as she struggled to sit. The other half of the tiny bed was empty - Helga wondered where Rhys was.   
"Do you want a drink?" She asked worriedly, going to help her sit up. Gwyneth waved away the offer of her arm, settling against stained pillows.

"Please," she said hoarsely.

Helga could have poured any amount of clear, cool, healthy water from her wand, but knowing her sister would refuse to drink it, she instead poured some from the metal jug on the stand. It settled in the goblet, almost thick in its consistency, and as Gwyneth drank it she said worriedly, "Where do you get your water?"

Here Gwyneth gave her a withering stare. "From the sea, of course. Have you forgotten?"

A slight flush rose to her cheeks. "Oh. Well....it does not look very healthy....."

"I'm sure you have clean water in bloody Scotland, Helga, but here we have to use what we have."

Time ticked by, and her sister's coughs settled as she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Helga felt uncomfortable. She had forgotten. She had done exactly what she had been afraid of, years before, and grown used to the luxuries of her new life, forgetting dirty water, poverty, days without food, cold nights when there was no fire. Even the nightgown she was wearing, one of Gwyneth's, seemed dreadfully plain and old to her, and she despaired at feeling that way.

"Are you going to stand there gaping or return to bed?"

Helga blinked, having been lost in thought. "Oh - I....well, Gwyneth, I should like to talk to you."

The last bit was said rather timidly, but Gwyneth nodded. "Talk away."

Slowly, Helga sat on the bed, which sagged alarmingly. "Is your husband....is he working?"

She nodded. "Sometimes they fish into the night. He - he's working harder these days, since I can't sew."

"Do you sew clothes for others?" She inquired.

"Mm. Gets us a few bob, at least."

Pause. "What is it you do?"

"Well," she said uncomfortably, nervously smoothing the rough blanket. "Nothing much, at present, though - though I am intending to be a professor at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts," she murmured. "I suppose you have become a right lady, have you, up in your castle? Forgotten all about us."

The lack of expected bitterness in these words was astounding. Instead, she sounded sad. "Not at all," Helga said, once her shock had cleared. "I - I never forgot about you. I sent you a letter, in fact, but it was sent back."

"I cannot read," she murmured, eyes half closed. "The owl made the children all excited, and it wouldn't leave me alone until I took the letter-"

"I apologise. He can be quite insistent."

"It was Catrin who put it back in the pouch. I s'pect she remembered the return address.....clever girl....."

"Perhaps I should leave you to sleep," Helga suggested, seeing that she was tired.

"I never forgot about you, Helga," Gwyneth said quietly. "I - I tried to, for a while. I worried."

Helga hesitantly patted her hand, which was rough from work. She could sense that even if the sisters did not remain in contact with each other, if they were now too different, at least they had both been soothed in their anxieties and could move on in life. Gwyneth's cold fingers slowly curled around her own, and she squeezed in return.


	9. Chapter 9

_September, Scotland, 986 AD_

Helga returned several days later, and Rowena felt a rush of relief she knew was purely selfish. She looked tired, but pleased, telling them both Gwyneth and the baby had survived.

It was later in bed with Rowena that she told her the rest.

"It was just so....jarring," she whispered. "Everything was so different."

In the darkness, Rowena could only see the outline of her face, but she knew it as well as her own, from the soft curve of her lips to her pale eyebrows. "She obviously worries about her children, as they are magical, and I said we could protect them here, all of them, if she came to live here."

Here was that selfish feeling again, that unwillingness to share Helga with anyone else. It made Rowena despise herself. "But she refused."

"Perhaps she'd let them attend Hogwarts," she whispered. "When we teach. And they could learn to defend themselves."

"Mm," Helga said, tracing little patterns onto her skin, which burned like trails of fire. "I missed you."

"As did I. It was like everything was dull, and I realised how much you truly brighten my world."

She could tell Helga was flushing, even in the dark as she laughed and said "You're so romantic, Rowena. Utterly different to the ice queen I met nearly two years ago."

"You melted me, then," she told her. "Like the sun, hmm?"

She lightly drifted her fingers through Helga's golden hair. "You are the day and I am the night," she murmured.

Helga gave a small smile, though she still looked weary. "Very poetic."

She laughed sleepily. "Pretentious nonsense."

She hesitated before asking the question. "Helga....you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to.....but why were they burning you?"

Helga gave a little sigh, and her fingers stopped tracing as she whispered "It was only my pa who was magic, Rowena. Not my mama."

"But....wizards aren't supposed to marry muggles," Rowena said, understanding dawning. Since a few hundred years before, in Britain, at least, wizards were banned from marrying muggles. It was too dangerous, the law said. And the punishment for breaking it....was burning at the stake. Muggle burning was child's play compared to what wizards could do. Wizarding fire burned through any number of charms you placed over yourself, and deeper than any normal fire ever could.

"Exactly. They saw me practising magic, you see. I was seventeen, and stupid, and-"

She broke off. "Word got round. The muggles became scared, and scared muggles are dangerous. A mob of them attacked her, and she couldn't defend herself-"

Rowena rubbed her arm. "Oh Helga," she said softly.

"And they called me and Gwyneth abominations, things that never should have existed. They tried us, but Gwyneth didn't have any magic, so nothing happened and they let her go."

"But you," Rowena whispered, and she nodded. "My magic burst from me. I didn't understand how to control it properly, see. My pa never went to any kind of school, but he tried his best in teaching me. He tried to stop them from burning me, and...."

"They burned him instead."

Helga began to cry. "Yes. Oh Rowena, I could smell it, and I was screaming, but Gwyneth forced me to look away, and then....then they told me to leave, away from everything I loved-"

She cried harder, until she managed, "You never said it back."

"What?" Rowena asked in puzzlement at the change of subject.

"I love you. You never said it back."

"I - I love you," she said, the words seeming to stick in her throat and almost making her cough.

"Do you? Or are you just s-saying that? Did you ever feel it?"

She stared, then sighed. "Helga, don't be dramatic. They're just words."

"Rowena," she said, her voice choked. "What's wrong with me? Why can you never show me you?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, legitimately puzzled, and not least by her heavy accent or slowness with English words.

"It seems that every time you be yourself, you just clam up again - even when we - when we lay together, did it mean anything?"

"Oh Helga, of course it did, I just....." she broke off, unsure of what to say, but sure, sure beyond anything she had ever known, that she loved the woman in front of her. "I never know what to say," she mumbled finally, picking at a loose thread on the blanket.

"I can never just.....I can't......"

She was struggling with words even now. "I can't be like you," she said eventually, and her voice sounded ridiculously on the verge of tears. "I can't just say that, I......I've never said it before, and nobody's ever said it to me."

"Not even your father?" She asked, her eyebrows now wrinkled in a way that looked concerned.

She gave a choked kind of laugh, looking up, and was surprised to see she was almost crying. "It was far more likely to be the opposite. And here I am again, crying - oh Helga, you make me feel the strangest things-"

Helga kissed her deeply, stoppering her words, breaking away to whisper, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She whispered, raising her fingers to stroke her soft cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, Rowena, oh I do. I hate when we fight."

"As do I. Please do not worry about Gwyneth - I promise I shall do everything in my power to make it alright."

"And what about you? How can I make yours alright?"

"You cannot, Helga. I am damaged beyond repair - I can't even see how you would want me, after seeing this much of me."

She gave a teary sniff. "I love when you're like this, when you talk to me, when you're human. I hate when you turn the other way."

"And what is she like?" She asked. "The other me?"

Helga gave a choked kind of laugh. "You're cold, and cruel, and you won't talk to me, and then I - I feel like I am terribly pushy-"

"No, Helga," she whispered. "Not at all. Here," she kissed Helga's nose, which made her smile a watery smile. "What are you doing?"

"I love your nose. It's so small and sweet. Don't worry, my sweet potato. Don't be sad. I promise I'll love you, no matter how annoying you are. Even if you stopped loving me, I'd still love you. Even if you got a brain transplant and became everything I hate I'd love you. Even if I didn't want to love you anymore, I would, because I can't help it."

Helga sniffed and smiled slightly. "You say such beautiful things."

She fell asleep, gradually, in her arms. Rowena laid her down gently and tucked the blankets around her, pushing back her hair off her forehead. Helga's horrible story had reminded her why she had wanted to build this school in the first place. She wanted to save children like Helga, children who could not control their powers and were instead punished for them, punished so horribly when they should have been encouraged.

********

 _November_ , _Scotland_ , _986 AD_

"I think we should have a school song," Helga said brightly, one day as she had gathered them in Rowena's library. Outside, it was rather gloomy, and rain pattered against the window as. She said. "To promote team spirit."

"What kind of song?" Salazar asked.

"A nice, jaunty one?" She suggested, sitting as Rowena materialised a quill and some parchment, writing HOGWARTS SCHOOL ANTHEM in block letters at the top.

"I'll start," Godric said, as Salazar waved his wand and a bottle of firewhisky began to pour itself into four glasses. He had a feeling they'd need it. Things like this usually reared both Godric and Rowena's competitive spirit, and usually ended in Godric suspended from the ceiling or something equally hilarious. He spread his arms wide, soaked in their attention, and then said "Hogwarts, Hogwarts."

Rowena's quill paused. Helga scrunched her nose. Salazar stopped sipping his drink. "Is that it?" Rowena eventually asked.

"What's wrong with it?" He asked defensively. "We can't all write poetry."

"Right then," said Helga hurriedly. A look passed between the two women, and then Rowena wrote HOGWARTS HOGWARTS in red ink.

"You next," Helga said, sipping her drink.

"Teach us something," she said, rather predictably, and wrote it neatly on the parchment in blue ink.

"Whether we be.....old?" Helga said, looking quickly to Rowena, who nodded and wrote it down.

"Pass," said Salazar.

"You can't pass!" Godric roared, as Rowena nodded her agreement.

"I'm pouring the drinks," he pointed out sweetly. "Us men, as you said this morning, Rowena, cannot multitask."

Something of a smile played about her lips as she said "Fine. Godric?"

"Or young."

"Alright. Um......"

"Our heads could do with filling," Godric said, nodding importantly.

"Excellent. With some....interesting information?"

They paused. "Stuff," Helga said finally. "Oddly, it fits better."

"Alright-" with some interesting stuff was added in yellow ink.

"For now they're bare," Salazar contributed, refilling Helga's glass. Her cheeks were becoming rather red. She seemed so happy - Rowena had been worrying, despite herself, about Gwyneth in the past few months.

"And full of air," she chimed in, smiling at him.

"Dead flies and bits of fluff!" Godric roared.

"Mm. Alright, how's this:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts

Teach us something

Whether we be old

Or young

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff

For now they're bare and full of air

Dead flies and bits of fluff.

There was a thoughtful pause. "I think it's missing something," Salazar said finally.

"Let's add some adjectives," Godric said. "I've got the second bit already: Hoggy Warty Hogwarts."

Salazar snorted. "Hoggy Warty Hogwarts?"

But Rowena added it, and then said crisply "Salazar?"

"Um.....Teach us something please."

Added to the list.

In the end, the song went like this:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts_

_Hoggy Warty Hogwarts_

_Teach us something please_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff_

_For now they're bare and full of air_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff_

"Excellent," Rowena said cheerfully.

********

_December, Scotland, 986 AD_

Helga had a cold and stayed in bed. Rowena snuck in at around noon and crawled into her bed, despite her saying she would catch it. "I don't care," she said, rubbing her hands with her own, which were cold.

"You will care when you could fill the lake with the amount of snot up your nose."

"Now Helga, do you have to be so vulgar?" She said, eyes twinkling as she was parodying her.

Helga relaxed, looking at her, glad she was here. She smiled as she lay down beside her properly. "What are you staring at?"

"You. You're so beautiful."

She scoffed. "It's you who's beautiful, what with your perfect little nose-"

She broke off to kiss it, which tickled. "And your eyebrows-"

"Eyebrows!"

"They're gorgeous," she said, kissing them.

"And your pretty lips."

She carried on this way with everything on her face, kissing her nose, her eyebrows, her lips, both of her cheeks and her eyelids, before there was a knock on the door. "Helga?"  
Godric. They both froze, and looked at each other.

"Helga, can we come in?"

Rowena had left her wand behind in her room. There was nothing to hide behind in Helga's. She couldn't very well jump from the fourth floor window. The bed was too low to hide under. And, as she was only half dressed, she could not have pretended she was simply visiting.

Helga tried to make her voice more hoarse. "I don't think so. I'm very sick, Godric."

She added a half strangled cough, and a quiet laugh escaped Rowena's lips.

"Oh. We got you soup!"

And then Salazar's voice. "This lummock did not know how to use the spell properly so we've got tons."

Rowena looked like she was considering attempting to throw on her clothes, and then deflated, apparently deciding it wasn't worth the bother. Helga flicked her wand and her clothes went flying into Helga's dresser, hidden. "Featherlight spell," she whispered to Helga before ducking beneath the covers, just as the door opened.

Helga had time to tap the lump with her wand, murmuring the spell, and Rowena disappeared as Godric and Salazar came in, the latter with his wand held out like a baton, hovering a gigantic tureen that smelled like vegetables. "Oh," she said, her voice slightly high pitched due to the fact that Rowena, the utter wench, was kissing her leg. She moved it, kicking out by accident, causing there to be a muffled, "Fuck!"

Godric frowned. "What?"

"Oh - nothing!" She forced a smile as Salazar set the tureen down. She had been half heartedly hoping that they, despite being good friends of hers, would simply leave the soup and go. However, Godric was making himself comfortable in the chair by the window, and Salazar was showing no signs of leaving as he settled himself on the end of the bed, eyebrow rising as he looked down at the stone floor.

"Was Rowena here earlier?"

"Er - yes she was, actually. Why do you ask?"

He nodded to the edge of her leather shoe, which was stuck between the wall and the bed, desperately wriggling to join its fellow, which had gone to Helga's. "She seems to have forgotten her shoe."

"Oh dear. Well, I shall - I shall inform her."

She cringed inwardly and hoped her face wasn't burning as Salazar nudged it out of the space and it flew into place.

"Well," Godric said, sitting forward. "Helga, we need your opinion on something. Do you agree with me that having dormitories under a lake is both impractical and outright stupid?"

"Who's having dormitories under a lake?" She asked in confusion, and Godric nodded to Sal, who rolled his grey eyes.

"Surely a truce could be made with the merpeople. And it is more aesthetically pleasing, as Helga's would be parallel as yours and Rowena's are."

"But the merpeople," Godric reminded him. "And water leakage."

"Bah," he said dismissively. "You do not think me capable of stopping a few drops?"

"With all due respect," Helga said, desperate to get the conversation over with, "It is more than a few drops, Sal. It's a lake."

Rowena was running her long nails down her thigh and making her wince.

"Are you alright?" Godric asked in concern.

"Um. Yes. Just the, ah, the cold. So, um-"

She bounded up from the bed, and began to shoo them towards the door. "Thank you for the soup. It's lovely."

Godric's thick red eyebrows knitted together as he was pushed towards the door. "But you haven't tasted it."

There was a long irritated red line of skin on her thigh, she noticed. She was going to kill her. "Well I am sure it will be, when I, ah, when I taste it - well, cheerio, thanks for visiting-"

Salazar looked terribly suspicious. "Why are you saying "cheerio?" Who says "cheerio?"

"Um, I do. Sometimes."

"No, you do not-"

He broke off as there was a small, muffled cough. His eyes narrowed as Godric poked his head over his shoulder, looking confused. "Did your bed just cough?"

"It's the quilt," she lied, panicked. "There was an accident with my wand - I think it's caught my cold."

Godric looked interested, and Salazar's eyebrow was raised, but she quickly said, "Bye then!" And closed the door, sighing with relief as she cast a silence spell and lay against it, closing her eyes. Rowena slowly sat up in the bed, the straps of her dark chemise bright against her pale skin.

"You shouldn't be on the floor, what with your cold."

Helga glowered at her but climbed back into the warm bed. "You cow. Look, I have a mark on my leg."

She clucked her tongue, looking. "Oh poor wee Helga."

She looked up, a smile playing on her lips. "My quilt has caught my cold?"

Her own mouth twitched but she shoved the smile down. "Shut up."

She coughed again. "Oh dear, I think I have caught your cold. Or maybe it was from your quilt?"

She pushed her back onto the pillows, giggling despite herself. "I said shut up."


	10. Chapter 10

_March, Scotland, 987 AD_

"Godric," Salazar said, kneeling on the bank and staring into the lake. "What the fuck."

It was rare that Salazar swore, and Godric smirked slightly, before defending himself. "It was an accident! Arthur can vouch for me, can't you Arthur?"

Godric's nephew grinned, looking just like his uncle. "It was an accident."

"See?" Godric said. "Now can you help me before Rowena sees?"

"Too late," he murmured. Rowena was coming over, noticing the commotion. Gilbert, Arthur's twin, gulped.

Rowena stopped. She stared. She opened her mouth as though about to say something. She closed it again. "I'm not sure I even want to ask. Godric, because I'm sure you had something to do with it, why is there a giant squid in the lake?

Goodness knows there was already enough in it. Rowena spoke mermish, and had already proposed a truce with the merpeople. As long as they let the merpeople alone, they would let them be. She wasn't sure "letting them alone" stretched to putting a giant sea creature in their home. The purple squid stared up, spreading its tentacles and moving further into the lake.

"It was an accident!" Gilbert said quickly. He was quite scared of Rowena. He wasn't the only one. Helga came up behind them, a puzzled look on her face. "How does one let a squid into a lake by accident?"

"Well I was about to explain, before Rowena here interrupted me," Godric said defensively.

"Right then," Rowena assumed a mock curious expression. "How does a giant squid get into a lake by accident, o Godric, king of knowledge?"

"Sit, children, and I will tell you the tale of: The Time Godric Accidentally Put A Squid Into The Lake And Rowena Forgave Him For It."

They sat. "We're waiting," Rowena said, eyebrow arched dangerously. Godric cleared his throat. He was nothing if not theatrical.

"Right. Well, it all started this morning, didn't it Arthur, Gilbert?"

The twins nodded their heads in agreement.

"Arthur, Gilbert and I were walking along the lake innocently."

Salazar snorted. He doubted Godric had ever done anything innocently. "And I said, like the wise uncle I am, 'Boys, do you know how many life forms are in this lake?'"

Rowena sighed. Let Godric off a story and something like this happened. "They shook their heads, they said 'No sir!' So I took pleasure in teaching them."

"Well that's nice and heartwarming," Helga said. "But it doesn't explain the squid."

"I was getting to that! I then said, "Shame there aren't any squids in here."

"Oh here we go," Rowena said, folding her arms.

Godric raised an index finger. "So I waved my wand in an experiment! I was quite taken over by excitement! And then, as though by magic, a giant squid appeared."

"Amazing," said Rowena drily. "And you expect us to believe that."

"I do indeed, my lady. And his name is Barnaby."

"Barnaby!" Helga began to laugh.

"Barnaby," Salazar said, smirking.

"Barnaby," Rowena snorted. "Godric, I don't even know what runs through your head. I suppose I'll have to go and talk to the merpeople or something."

"No need," he grinned. "Look."

They looked to the giant squid. Through the murky water they could see several humanoid forms with long green hair, who were stroking Barnaby, who was looking as though he were enjoying it immensely.

"Well that's your problem solved, isn't it?" Arthur said brightly, staring with interest at the merpeople. Gilbert inched away.

 

  
Catrin had kept in regular contact with Helga, and as such, seeing as today was her birthday, Helga was thinking of sending her a present. "But is that spoiling her?" She bit her lip, looking to her friends.

"Well, maybe she deserves it," said Godric.

"But I'm not giving any of the other children anything, because I don't know when their birthdays are, and Gwyneth might not like it anyhow-"

"Just send her the gift before you waste all day talking about it." Salazar said, peering at the Hogwarts plans. "Rowena, why do you want a library?"

"Because they'll need someplace to learn, of course." She looked shocked. "Someplace to do their homework and read."

"Because they can't do that anywhere else." He murmured, tapping the plans with his wand as the square marked "Library" shifted.

 

  
She stroked the owl's beak, leading him over to the window. "Make sure Gwyneth does not see you, little one." She murmured.

She wasn't sure what type of present was suitable for a nine year old girl, and at Rowena's instruction had sent Catrin a book that taught very basic wandless magic, one that she herself had used as a child. She'd been worried that perhaps Catrin could not read, remembering that she and Gwyneth had not been taught as children. However, when asked, Catrin said her grandmother on her father's side had taught she and her brother to read, which was surprising. Helga had also put in a letter, written in simple letters, in Welsh, asking her to hide it from Gwyenth, and to teach the other children.

She received a reply two days later, a crudely written letter written in Welsh,  on rough paper.

 _Deer Helga_  
I can do my letters becauz grandmother taughte me.   
Im not veery goode at writtting.  
Tank you for my booke. I cane read it.  
Love Catrin xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

  
It was raining outside. Rowena and Helga lay in bed together, listening to it. Today was Sunday, and a rather lazy day, as there was no urgent work to be done, and anyway, Godric had proclaimed Sundays as non working days - completely ridiculous, because, as Rowena had pointed out, he wasn't Christian. Nevertheless, it was nice to have a lie in, and as Helga had a cough, she was feeling a little bit down anyway.

"Hmm," Rowena said with interest. "You have the sweetest little freckle on your ankle."

Helga laughed softly. "Is this the first time you have noticed it?"

"Mm," she agreed absentmindedly. "I'm afraid I am usually rather distracted whenever you take off your clothes."

Helga laughed again, pushing her shoulder gently as she said, more seriously, "Are you going to send another letter to Gwyneth?"

The smile faded slightly. "She can't read."

"Surely Catrin can read it to her?"

"Mm," she agreed, saying nothing else as she settled herself against Rowena's bare shoulder, beginning to kiss it, but Rowena gave her a look and moved away.

"Come on, Helga, you know how important it is to stay in contact with family."

"When are you going to send a letter to Roderick?" She enquired pleasantly.

Rowena's mouth twitched, presumably at her cheek. "That's different."

"Yes, I am sure it is. Both of us has a sibling we do not know very well, and yet you barely ever talk of yours."

"Because he's a prick," she sighed. "Point taken, I suppose."

Helga gave a sleepy little smile and settled against her, a few lovely minutes passing before she said, "I love when we have this time together, don't you?"

"Mm," Rowena agreed truthfully. "It's our own little secret, is it not? Imagine if Godric came bursting through that door...."

She laughed wonderfully, but then abruptly stopped, her eyes as round as saucers. "What if they're at it too?"

This idea was too much for Rowena to handle, and she began to cackle.

"No, seriously, Rowena-"

"Oh love-" she managed, shaking. "They wouldn't be fighting so much if they were, would they?"

"Could be lover's fights."

"Lovers tiffs," she agreed, still laughing, and Helga began to laugh to, but then had a coughing fit.

"Helga?" Rowena asked worriedly, as, eyes streaming, she managed, "Alright," sipping from her goblet of water.

"Are you sure? It was rather barking-"

"What are you now, a healer?"

"Hmm," Rowena said thoughtfully, sitting properly. "Alright then, I am a healer."

Helga laughed, putting down her goblet. "Be serious."

"Rowena the healer is always serious. Where does it hurt?"

Helga took her hand and guided it to one full breast, mouth twitching.

"That's naughty," Rowena said, smothering her own smile as she unfortunately took it away. "I could have you arrested. Where's the pain?"

"In my lungs."

"In my lungs, what?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "In my lungs, Healer Rowena. You are twenty three years old. I am beginning to think this is some strange power fantasy."

"Not at all. Do you have a cough?"

A glare. "You know I have a cough."

"Do you have a cough, Miss Hufflepuff, my patient that I do not know and have never met before?"

Helga raised her forearm to her head. "You're ridiculous. If you were a real healer I'd report you."

"But do you have a cough?" She pressed, and Helga coughed, not even on purpose, glaring as she did so.

"I shall take that as a yes," she said briskly. "Chest pain?"

"Yes. It seems to be increasing. Perhaps I shall die while you live our your strange fantasies."

"Don't be morbid, Miss Hufflepuff. Age?"

"Twenty three."

"Sex?"

"None recently, because you're too busy pretending to be a healer."

Rowena burst into laughter.


	11. Chapter 11

_May, Scotland, 987 AD_

 

"So I suppose you were both working until the wee hours last night?" Godric asked.

Rowena's hand stilled in spreading jam onto her bread. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I ask because I saw Helga leaving your room this morning. You must have been working for hours."

Rowena did not like the knowing smirk that played around Salazar's mouth. "We were going over the syllabus," Helga jumped in.

"Oh," he deflated. "Do you need any help?"

Rowena smiled, she knew Godric hated the boring parts, in his eyes the syllabus. "No, we're fine."

 

"Godric, I have enough of your charity! I can never hope to pay you back for everything you've done."

Godric smiled. "I do not expect anything, Rowena. It is my gift, as a friend."

"But Rowena and I can contribute nothing." Helga was aghast. "It is simply you and Salazar who are paying."

"And that's the way it shall remain."

Salazar looked as though he might object, then went back to his porridge.

"It's not like you're bringing nothing into the equation. Helga, you make the best pies, you're a great friend, and without you we'd all kill each other. Rowena, we wouldn't get anywhere without your charms and jinxes."

Rowena looked slightly smug, as he knew she would. She loved receiving compliments.

"So therefore, I am building you both a cottage on the grounds and not one more word will be said about it."

 ********

_October, Scotland, 987 AD_

 

Helga and Rowena lay together on the grass, holding hands and looking up at the stars. The night was clear, and might have perhaps been cold were it not for the heating charms around them, and the warmth that fizzed through Helga whenever she touched her.

"The stars are so beautiful," Helga said, her exhale misty, though she felt perfectly warm in just her nightgown and cardigan. Rowena turned her head to look at her, and laughed.

"What?" She demanded, laughing herself.

"You have this cute little smile on your face. You're beautiful."

"Everything is beautiful," Helga whispered, looking at the silvery moon.

Rowena was quiet. "I'm not sure how you can stay so positive all the time," she said finally.

"Positive?"

"Well-" Rowena moved so that she put her head on her shoulder. "You have had a hard life, and you've lost your parents, but you can still smile, and you can still laugh and love."

"There are people worse off than me," Helga told her. "There are people dying in the streets of London as they live in their own filth. There are people who kill and rape other people. I'm happy to be healthy, and I'm happy to have my friends, and I'm happy to have someone I love and who loves me back, even if it's not the kind of love that other people understand."

"You're such a beautiful person, too. I fear I am horribly selfish."

"Of course not," Helga told her, kissing her forehead. "We all make ourselves. You know what I said to Godric about you, years ago?"

"What?" Rowena asked, her blue eyes looking up into Helga's. "I said that you were a beautiful person under all of your armour."

Rowena looked as though she might cry. "There you go again, Helga, you see only the best in everyone else, and it's – it's-" she broke off, tears sparkling in her eyes. "It's bloody beautiful!"

"You're beautiful," Helga told her, pushing back her silky hair from her forehead. "Absolutely radiant."

"I used to see a time where I wouldn't be alone anymore, in my dreams, you know. And I thought it was just wishful thinking, that I would be alone forever, but-"

She broke off. "You're right, Helga."

"What?"

"Everything is beautiful. I used to think the world was so ugly and bare and horrible, but it isn't. I'm living and I'm breathing and I'm beautiful. You're here and I love you and you're beautiful, and the stars are beautiful and rain is beautiful and your tears are beautiful –" she stopped again, looking as though she was searching for words.

"But all I can think about is how this is going to end," she continued. "This is going to end eventually, because everything ends and everything dies-"

Helga put her finger to her lips. "Rowena, we should just live in the moment. Not focus on the future or the past."

"I suppose," she said, and then, with a smile "I love it when you say my name."

"I love it when you say mine," Helga said, as she leaned up to kiss her.

"Helga, Helga, Helga, Helga."

"Rowena, Rowena, Rowena, Rowena."

"Helga, I'm so in love with you."

"So am I," Helga whispered, unable to keep the silly little smile off her lips.

********

_February, Scotland, 988 AD_

 

While it hadn't snowed at all in winter, they woke up one morning in mid February, just after Rowena's birthday, to find it had snowed.  Rowena was sitting outside, writing, Helga was checking on her plants, and Salazar read a book nearby, while Godric passed, whistling. Rowena raised her eyebrow, knowing he was up to something.

Salazar spoke without raising his eyes from the page. "Godric, if I were you, and I were going to throw that snowball at Salazar, I would rethink my life choices and decide whether or not I want internal bleeding."

Godric looked offended, then dropped it. "So suspicious. I-"

His sentence was cut off by a snowball, which whacked him in the back of the head. He rose, rubbing it. "Oi! Who threw that?"

By the muffled giggling coming from beside the greenhouses, Rowena was willing to bet on it. "It is ON!" He yelled.

"Oh dear," Salazar murmured.

It wasn't long before Rowena herself was whacked right in the face, and Helga held her hand to her mouth, unable to suppress the smile at her outraged expression. "Oops."

She calmly stood, and slowly bent. "Run!" Godric yelled.

Helga didn't need telling twice, and she ran, but not fast enough as a snowball caught her in the back. She laughed, her cheeks bright as she turned, and fired at Rowena.

Soon one hit Salazar square in the face, and slowly fell onto his book. Helga, eyes glittering, looked to Rowena, biting her lip. Salazar rose very very slowly. "You are going to regret that very much, Helga Hufflepuff."

It escalated into a full blown snowball fight, wherein they ran amok like children, and eventually escalated into girls vs boys. "Alright," Rowena murmured, just having ducked behind a snow covered bush with Helga, having apparated to the back of the castle. "When Godric charms himself invisible, and he will, we-"

She broke off, laughing. "Stop looking at me."

"I can't help it. You're so beautiful."

"Stop saying sweet things. I'm supposed to be concentrating."

Nevertheless, Helga's cute pout and little knitted winter hat, both of which, as she said later, should have been outlawed, drew her in. She broke away after a minute. "I'm not being on your team again. You keep distracting me."

"Oh, but this is much more fun," Helga said, kissing her again. "Stop it," she whined half heartedly, trying to multitask and check for Godric, Helga's cold gloved hands cupping her chin, as there was a popping noise, rather like an invisibility charm wearing off, and an "Oh."


	12. Chapter 12

Helga felt herself flush, and her hands dropped like they were on fire as Rowena spluttered "Godric!"

His face was red, giving the impression, once paired with his scarlet hair, that he was on fire.

The three of them gaped at each other for a moment, not finding words. Helga felt her face burning stronger. She was mortified. There was another pop, and Salazar appeared, smiling almost pleasantly as he straightened his robes. "Shall we all go in for a cup of cocoa?" He asked, and all they could do was nod.

  
"So you – you two – you're....."

"Lovers, I suppose," Helga's face was burning a vivid red.

"Lovers," he repeated. Oddly, he found he wasn't in the least affected by such a thing, just slightly hurt.

Salazar did not look in the least surprised, and so when Rowena unfroze she turned to him. "You knew?"

"Of course I did," he rolled his eyes. "You make it so bloody obvious, you know. All those glances and smiles. It's quite sickening."

"Right," she said faintly. "And um....how long have you known?"

"From the start. You kept giving each other these eyes, and barely noticed anything else."

Rowena and Helga both gaped at him.

"Well...." Godric said again. "I don't mind, of course I don't mind, but.....why didn't you tell me?"

"I suppose," Rowena said carefully. "We didn't know how you'd react. People are killed for this kind of thing, you know."

He knew. He remembered, years ago in his childhood, standing at his bedroom window and watching the muggle village below where two men were being burned together at the stake, the crowd jeering and laughing. "But don't you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't mind? I mean – I think it's amazing!"

She blinked. "Amazing?"

"Because you were so clearly lonely, at first, remember? It was like you were made of ice, and then you just....melted. I suppose that was Helga?"

"I suppose," she said, again rather faintly.

He grabbed all of his friends in a sudden tight hug, making Salazar yelp with surprise and Rowena stiffen. "I love it when my friends are happy, and you're clearly happy."

"Great," Helga's voice was slightly muffled. "Godric, you're smothering me."

"Sorry," he pushed them back.

********

  
_May, Scotland, 988 AD_

  
The first thing Salazar said, as Godric came into the Great Hall, was "What have you done to your _hair_?"

Smoke was rising off it.

He grimaced. "Apparently Welsh Greens don't like it when you touch their eggs."

"Oh Godric," Helga said, raising her hand to her mouth. The thought of animal cruelty upset her. "You didn't hurt them, did you?"

"I only wanted to look at them. Fascinating things, dragon eggs. But eh....yes."

"It'll probably have to be cut off," Helga said, observing the burnt hair.

"I'm sure Rowena knows a charm-"

"No," he said quickly, too quickly, by the way Rowena's eyes narrowed. The last thing he trusted was Rowena with a wand near his head. "I'll just cut it off."

"Here," she summoned a scissors, and gestured at him to sit.

He leaned back against her knees and she began to cut the burned bits, his red hair decorated with grey ash. "Do you mind what it looks like?"

"Not as long as I have some hair left."

"You know," Rowena said, watching them. "Hogwarts will be suitable for teaching soon. We could open the year after next."

"It'll never be fully finished – ow!" Godric yelped, as Helga had slapped his wrist to make him turn back around.

"Well yes, but the basics are done, are they not? And we have our lodgings, for privacy, and the dormitories will soon be sorted."

"It's quite surreal," Salazar said. "That we're nearly finished."

"I think it was truly fate," Helga said, smiling over Godric's head. "That we all met."

Salazar snorted slightly. He didn't believe in fate.

"What?" She protested. "It was completely random that we four would be at the edge of Hogsmeade when we were, especially in a cold December."

She finished with Godric, and he ran his hands through his shorn locks. "Thanks. I'm off to have a bath, then."

********

  
_September, Scotland, 988 AD_

Rowena was crying in her sleep, shaking violently, and Helga said urgently "Rowena, please, it isn't real – it isn't real...."

Helga hated when Rowena had these nightmares, because she never knew what to do. Rowena never told her what they were about, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. The night was a bright one, a full moon staring in the window past light rain that pattered gently against the glass. "Now," Helga tucked her into bed like a child. "Sleep."

"I'm sorry, Helga," she whispered, as Helga lay back down beside her.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know. Everything. I'm going to do something bad, I know I am....."

"Oh Rowena, I think the more you dwell on it, the more you worry. It might not even happen. It might just be a normal nightmare."

It was a poor excuse, but Rowena nodded. "Helga," she whispered after a minute. "I saw something else."

"What?" Helga asked, puzzled because she never usually told her.

"A child," Rowena paused. "I felt like she was important to me. She had black hair, but curls like yours, and eyes like yours-"

Helga still didn't understand. "Who was it?" She whispered.

A pause. "I don't know. Maybe.....maybe one of your relatives or something."

"But why would you dream about her? And why would she be so important?"

Rowena wriggled closer, her hair tickling Helga's arm. "I don't know. That's the whole problem with Seeing, darling, it hurts your mind if you think too much about it. I shouldn't really have told you."

"Well then I won't think about it much," Helga said resolutely, and Rowena laughed, but it was more forced than anything else.

"Whatever else you saw......" she said gently. "It wasn't too bad, was it?"

She hesitated. "No. It's fine."

"I hate the thought of you having to see horrible things. The Sight is horrible."

Rowena ran her fingers through her hair, smiling softly at her. "My Helga. You're such a worrier."

"I can't help it. And," she said, smiling. "Speaking of worrying, it's about two in the morning, and we need to be up early tomorrow."

Rowena sighed good humouredly, and kissed her shoulder. "Goodnight, then. And please don't worry."

"'Night," Helga replied, slipping into sleep.

 ********

  
_October, Scotland, 988 AD_

  
Rowena was in her study, trying to fit the dormitories in. She had forgone their usual All Hallow's Eve feast, as Salazar and Godric had been fighting again. On the model, the dormitories in green, in the dungeons under the lake were to be Slytherin. The ones on the other side of the castle, in warm yellow were Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw would fit in upstairs somewhere, although she could not for the life of her fit them in. The library jumped a square to the left, and a bathroom squashed itself against it as she prodded the Ravenclaw dormitories in. The square wouldn't fit, and she sighed. "Working hard, I see."

She looked up to see Helga, levitating a pie with her wand and smiling.

As the savoury smell reached her nostrils, her stomach rumbled loudly.

The smile grew wider. "Just as I thought, you have been too busy working to remember to eat."

"Oh Helga, you didn't."

"I didn't, actually," she lowered it onto the table. "I've been teaching the house elves my recipes."

"Of course you have," she smiled and pulled out a chair for her, pushing the model aside. "Are the men still bickering like children?"

"Yes," Helga sighed, pulling her chair in. "It's honestly awful."

"Don't get involved," she advised, as they began to eat. "You'll be dragged into it."

"Mm. How's your pie?"

"Heavenly," she told her as steam rose into the air.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning when she woke, she was alone. Helga would rise early most mornings to prepare breakfast, a habit she had never broken out of. Rowena, not a morning person, usually slept until after eleven, if not woken. The air was warm with magic, and she yawned, then rose and began to get ready, washing, sliding on clean robes, brushing out her hair and braiding it. She made her way into the adjoining study, then stopped. Magic, unfamiliar magic, was in the air. The model was on the floor, and she had a brief panic. Dark magic.

She held up her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

But the silver animal that burst from her wand was not her soaring eagle; instead it was an animal who scurried across the floor. A badger. "Helga?" She said weakly, falling to a chair.

At Helga's name the magic seemed to burn brighter, and the badger raised a paw, barely touching her stomach – no. Her womb. She instantly understood. "Oh," she said, putting her hands to her stomach. The little girl's face flashed into her mind, warm brown eyes just like Helga's, and black hair, black hair just like Rowena's. "Oh."

 

"Rowena, calm down and tell me what's wrong," Helga reached out her arm and caught her hand, stopping her in her pacing across the path. Rowena exhaled, and looked down at their hands.

"Sit," Helga said, and she did so, the bench creaking as she exhaled "Helga, I...I'm not sure how to say this, but.....I'm with child."

Helga's eyes widened.

"I did not – I promise – Helga, there is more than one way to conceive a child."

"I believe you, Rowena, just- are you sure?"

"My courses have stopped, I've been sick all week-"

She broke off, and Helga exhaled, her eyes sparkling. "That was her, wasn't it?" She asked. "The little girl in your dream."

Rowena nodded, and then Helga exhaled again, putting her hands on her stomach. "I can feel her a little bit. Here."

She looked completely natural like that, so right, that Rowena wondered why it had not been her who was the mother.

Rowena nodded slowly, and a smile spread across her face as she laid her head on Helga's shoulder. They sat there, on the bench, looking out at the water for a few minutes before Helga said "Have you thought about names?"

"Well I was thinking," Rowena said, linking her fingers with hers properly, looking down at them. "That we would discuss it together. But there is an old magic-" she broke off, flushing, a smile that she couldn't suppress rising to her lips as she raised her head. "Remember when we were discussing Celtic magic?"

"You want to combine our names?" She asked, her curly hair blowing around her face.

"Yes."

They each took both the other's hands. "I give the first," Helga whispered.

"And I the second."

"Helena," they said together, and the magic fizzed even more as they began to cry even as they were laughing, throwing their arms around each other and hugging tightly.

********

_January, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

Telling Godric and Salazar, was, as expected, slightly awkward, but of course they could not keep it secret, especially once she began to show. In early January they came onto the subject of names. "I suggest Godric," Godric said brightly.

"She's a girl," Rowena reminded him, through the apple she was chewing.

"Godricina, then."

"That is the singular worst baby name I have ever heard," Salazar said, looking over his book.

"We already have a name," Helga said, smiling at Rowena.

"Oh?" Godric said, settling himself in an armchair by the fire, across from Rowena.

She finished with her apple, and tossed the core into the fire, her lips curving into a smile. "Helena."

Salazar's mouth twitched. Godric threw back his head and laughed.

"What?"

"Just-" he paused, wiping his eyes. "How very like you, Rowena, to hide the answer to her parentage in her very name!"

"I suppose this means one of us will have to pretend to be her father?" Salazar asked drily.

Rowena hesitated.

"Oh," said Helga. "We hadn't thought of that."

She bit her lip.

Salazar sighed, then closed the book. "I volunteer."

"You don't have to," Godric said. "I'll do it."

"No. No doubt you'll meet some twittering young girl you'll want to marry."

"I take offence to that!"

"You don't have to," Rowena repeated. "Honestly, Salazar. What's the worse they can do?"

"Burn you at the stake," he said flatly. "And Helga, too, if they find that out."

"So does this mean you'll have to get married?" Helga asked, nibbling her lip.

Salazar shook his head. "No. This should do – Accio ring!"

A small object came flying into the room through the open window, so quickly Helga jumped, and he tossed it across to Rowena, who blinked. "Will you marry me, Rowena Ravenclaw?"

"Who says romance is dead?" She murmured, but smiled and said "Why of course," and slipped it onto her ring finger, just above her mother's.

 

Rowena stared at herself in the mirror, as she had done every night for the past several weeks. She would have denied vehemently that she was in any way vain, but looked critically at her small waist. "I don't look any different yet," she observed. "Soon I'll be all fat and unattractive."

"Oh Rowena," Helga smiled. "You'll always be beautiful. Look at me, my waist is much bigger than yours."

"Yes, well," she turned, and slid into bed beside her. "Yours is all curves."

"I'll love you even if you gain fifty stone and have to be levitated around the castle."

"Mm," she paused. Despite the good humoured banter, there was something lurking underneath. "It doesn't....hurt you that I'm pretending to be married to Salazar, does it?"

"Of course not. I just-"

She broke off, sighing."I don't know. It feels odd. People are going to think you're in love, and it just....."

"Oh Helga. It's just appearances, you know that," she said gently. "You know I love you."

"Well – yes," she said, looking down as she traced little patterns on Rowena's leg. "But nobody else knows it."

"Does that really matter?" Rowena asked, tipping her chin up so she was looking into her brown eyes. "Isn't it enough for just us to know?"

She smiled. "Oh, of course it is."

"And if you want to get married...." She eased the Ravenclaw ring off her finger.

"Whatever are you doing?"

Rowena proffered it, her eyes glittering. "Helga, will you marry me?"

Helga put shaking hands to her mouth. "Oh Rowena.....I have nothing to give you-"

Rowena sighed good naturedly, and reached across to pick up the Slytherin ring on the dresser. They lay side by side in her palm, one silver and emerald, the other silver and sapphire. "I can't take your mother's ring-"

"Helga," Rowena interrupted. "Take the Slytherin one, and we'll pretend it's Hufflepuff." Helga hesitantly took the Slytherin one.

"Yes. Now, give me your hand."

Helga did so, still looking slightly dazed as Rowena bent, her dark hair tickling her wrist as she slid the Ravenclaw ring onto her ring finger. "I give to you this ring, Helga Hufflepuff, as a symbol of my everlasting love. I promise to cherish you and put you before all else."

Tears rose in Helga's eyes and she sniffed. "Oh Rowena, that's so beautiful...."

"Now you."

Helga took her hand and smiled at her.  "I give to you this ring, Rowena Ravenclaw, as a symbol of my everlasting love."

"There," Rowena said, rubbing the ring on her finger, smiling at her. "You're my wife."

"And you're mine," Helga whispered, and Rowena felt tears bloom in her own eyes, silly as it was. Helga laughed and wiped them away with gentle fingers. "Oh dear. Why are we crying?"

"I don't know. And Helena," she said, looking down at her stomach. "Is our daughter."

The tears flowed quickly, then, and Helga bent to the bedstand to fetch a handkerchief, which she offered to her. Rowena smoothed it, and cried harder as she saw the letters on it. "You kept it?"

"Of course I kept it," Helga said, reaching out her hand to touch the side of her face. "I loved you then, and now I love you all the more."


	14. Chapter 14

_February, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

Rowena was growing a small bump, and had developed an obsession with apples, constantly eating either them or Helga's apple pie. It was in mid February that she dropped a bombshell that caused an argument. "I'm not having a midwife."

Helga gaped. "What?"

"A midwife," Rowena said, biting into an apple. "I'm not having one."

Slightly worried that pregnancy hormones had affected her brain, she said "Whyever not?"

"There were two people my father blamed for my mother's death. Myself, and the midwife. I'm not having one."

"But that's ridiculous!" Helga spluttered. "In fact, without a midwife, there's a higher chance you might go the same way as her!"

She blanched. "Not having one," she said again. "Absolutely not."

 

Things were still rather tense between them when they went to bed.

"Helga," Rowena whispered. "Helga, I'm sorry if I upset you."

Helga made a little "humph" noise.

"I'm still not having a midwife, though."

"Why not?"

"Because," she said evenly. "They frighten me half to death. Helga, I'd much rather trust you."

"But what if something happens, Ro?" Helga asked, her reserve down. "I'd never.....I'd never forgive myself."

"Well then you can blame me," Rowena said lightly. "Helga, I have full faith in you."

"But that's exactly the bloody problem! I might not live up to your expectations, and then you'd be dead and Helena with you!"

She was crying, almost, and Rowena said softly. "Oh Helga, please don't cry. We'll be fine. And anyway-" a smile rose to her lips. "You can ask Godric for help."

Helga snorted. "Can you imagine him? He'd be all flustered. He wouldn't know where to look."

The mood was more relaxed, now, as Helga said, biting her lip "Visit her at least."

"Helga...."

"Come on. In Hogsmeade, she's supposed to be really nice. Just to check everything's alright."

A pause, and then Rowena caved.

"Fine," she agreed sullenly. "But you're coming with me."

"Fine. Do you feel alright?"

"My back's a bit sore."

Helga began to rub it for her as she said sulkily "This doesn't mean I forgive you for suggesting it."

Helga laughed, knowing that this meant completely the opposite.

******** 

_March, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

The visit to the midwife proved successful, as there was nothing amiss at all. Helga was now more confident about herself being the only one there, though she was still nervous. Rowena's stomach continued to grow, and her face and ankles swole up too.

"Oh come on, Helena," she said to her bump. "You were kicking like mad a few minutes ago."

She took Helga's hand and placed it on her swollen stomach. A minute passed, and then Helga felt a tiny little flutter, and she gasped. Rowena nodded, her eyes sparkling. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"What?" Godric asked, coming in. He was scowling, having clearly had harsh words with Salazar, but his expression instantly softened as he saw Helga with her hand on Rowena's bare stomach. Rowena looked up. "Do you want to feel it?"

He came forward, hesitantly, and that was how Helga and Rowena saw Godric, a man who regularly wrestled wild animals or whatever he did out in the forest, cry over a tiny baby kicking.

******** 

_April, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

Rowena climbed into bed with some difficulty, and said "I've been thinking."

"Yes?" Helga said, smiling at her large mountain of a stomach.

"Yes," she said, then picked up her wand and summoned an apple from the kitchen. Helga felt her mouth twitch. "You're going to strip all the apple trees bare."

"Oh leave me, Helga, Helena likes them. You can't deny a baby food, now, can you?"

"I suppose not," she laughed. "So what have you been thinking?"

"Well – what's her surname going to be?"

Helga paused. "Ravenclaw, yes?"

Rowena looked thoughtful as she chewed her apple. "Isn't that a bit unfair on you, though? As you're her mother, too."

"We could combine them," Helga said, smiling. "Like her forename."

"Helena Ravenpuff."

"Huffleclaw."

"We could even change her first name," Rowena took another bite of her apple, thinking. "I think Rowlga Huffleclaw has a nice ring to it."

Helga laughed. "Oh dear, that sounds like a goblin."

"Or, indeed, we could name her after each of us. Godsalrowlga Gryffslyravpuff."

Helga was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. "Rowena," she gasped, hanging onto her arm to stop herself from falling out of bed. "We are not naming our child Godsalrowlga Gryffslyravpuff."

"No," Rowena decided. "I rather think the poor child would be teased. Rowlga Huffleclaw it is, then."

"Rowena!"

She rolled her eyes as she threw the apple core expertly into the bin. "Helena Ravenclaw it is, then. Although I think she liked the first one better."

"The child did not like the first one better."

"She's in my stomach, I can telepathically contact her."

"I think the pregnancy hormones are getting to your head, Rowena."

"Or maybe there's something in the apples."

"If she turns out to be an apple farmer, I'm blaming you."

"That's fair, I suppose," Rowena looked down at her hand, and smiled. "The ring looks good on you."

Helga laid her hand atop hers, and the two rings sat side by side. "It's almost as if we're actually married," she said softly.

"Maybe one day couples like us can," Rowena replied. "Anyway, Helga, I think marriage is less about a certificate and more about how you feel."

"And how do you feel?" She asked.

Rowena put on a mock shocked expression. "Helga, don't you listen to me at at all?"

She caught her in her arms and punctuated every word with a kiss to her cheek. "I – adore – you."

"So do I. But I think," she said, laughing as she pulled back. "That Helena needs some sleep."

"She's going to start kicking in the middle of the night. Sleep my arse."

"Try to sleep before that, then."

"I'll kick you."

"Try, and I'll curse you."

"See, Helga," Rowena said, after the candle was blown out and they were lying down. "This is why I love you."


	15. Chapter 15

_May, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

Inside her was a baby. Her baby. Helga's baby. It was odd to think. Her face had become puffy, and her ankles pained her so she had to prop them on a footstool when she sat down. The closer she got to July, the more panicked she became. "What if what happened to my mother happens to me?" She fretted.

"It won't," Helga soothed.

"How do you know?"

"Because you have me."

 

 

It was a wet day in May that Godric was bored, which was the only reason he would ever say "Game of chess, Rowena?"

"Ugh," she looked at the distance between herself and the chessboard. "Can you bring it over here?"

This he did, and they began to chat about the school. "Definitely not September," Godric said, prodding his knight forward. "You won't be half strong enough, and a crying baby would disrupt things."

"Next year, then," she said, eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Do you reckon we'll get many students, the first year?"

"Umm...." She poked a pawn forward. "Your nephews are definite. Maybe Helga's nieces and nephews. Probably not mine."

"Heard from Roderick recently?" He asked lightly, aware of the touchy subject.

She shook her head. The last letter from Roderick had been more than a year ago, asking for money. Roderick's wife, and their cousin, Rosetta, had also ceased contact, not that she'd ever been a stimulating conversationalist. They were a terrible match, really, both terribly selfish, one greedy, one horribly vain. Really, she pitied the children. She wondered if inbreeding had made them the way they were. "I was thinking," she said, moving her piece. "That we should have a matron. You know, in case of accidents and such. A hospital wing."

"Yes, but wouldn't that....you know," he gestured towards her stomach. "And you and Helga."

"Well not til Helena is born, obviously. And we'd just be more careful."

She sat back and smiled smugly as her knight threw his remaining pieces violently off the board, eventually landing at the king, who threw his crown at his feet. "Victory is mine."

********

_June, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

Rowena was becoming more irritable at this stage of her pregnancy. The playfulness was gone, replaced by a woman who snapped at most things. Her obsession with apples was gone – now she couldn't stand even the scent of them and had to change her shampoo. Anyone eating apples, apple pie, or drinking apple juice would be told firmly to piss off before she puked all over them. Oddly, this also meant she become much more emotional. She cried at the smallest things, and Godric joked that they could fill the lake with the amount of tears she had shed when Helga's roosters were killed by a fox.

They were folding up baby clothes in the new room in their cottage, all ready to put in the white dresser, when she started sobbing again, clutching a tiny little vest tightly.

"What is it?" Helga asked.

She couldn't answer, crying too hard, waving the vest at her like some kind of flag.

"The vest?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face, taking a big gulp of air. "It's so small. But then she won't be able to fit into it anymore."

"Oh Rowena," Helga said, smiling at her and hugging her loosely to avoid hurting her large bump. Rowena sobbed into her shoulder. "They're so small, Helga."

Helga looked at the little dresses on the bed, the little socks, hats and gloves she had knitted. "I think we'll leave this for another day," she said gently, pulling away from the hug. Rowena, still crying, nodded, then sobbed "Helga, I want peanuts now."

"More peanuts?"

"Yes!" She wailed. "I'm going to be a fat bastard, aren't I?"

Helga felt herself laughing, which made her cry harder. "Don't laugh at me, Helga!"

"I'm not laughing at you, I promise," Helga managed, and then burst into more giggles.

Helga couldn't control herself, and so fetched the peanuts for Rowena as she sat on the couch. She ate them, still occasionally stopping to weep "They're so small!"

On one occasion, she snapped at Helga through her tears "Stop judging me!"

"I'm not judging you," Helga laughed, unable to stop herself.

She sniffed, putting down the empty bag, looking confused. "Helga, please give me a hug."

Helga did so, enveloping her in her arms and kissing the top of her head. "There now," she said soothingly. "Do you feel better?"

"No," she sobbed into her robes. "You're going to leave me for some Welsh bastard now, aren't you?"

This was so random it made Helga laugh again. "Of course not, Rowena. I love you."

She sobbed harder.

"What is it now?"

"Now I'm thinking of all the people who have nobody to love theeeeeem!"

********

_July, Scotland, 989 AD_

 

Helga came back from checking on her plants to find Rowena on all fours, scrubbing the tiles in the kitchen in just her chemise. Her dress was huddled on a chair, and she stopped. "Rowena? Is there any particular reason you're washing the floor by hand?"

"Not really," she said brightly. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were glittering. "Just got the urge."

"Alright....do you want me to help you?"

She considered. "If you would."

So Helga unlaced her dress and got down on the floor, scrubbing the floor with Rowena.

"You know, Helga," she said, after a moment. "I think it's the pregnancy hormones."

"You don't say," Helga said, with uncharacteristic sarcasm. They both laughed, but then Rowena stopped suddenly, and then put her hand on her swollen stomach. "Ooh."

"What is it?" Helga asked in alarm, stopping her scrubbing.

"I felt rather odd just then. Like a....like a wave."

"Contractions?" Helga asked, making to rise.

"Not contractions."

"Have you had them before?"

She considered. "Through today, now I think about it."

Helga gaped. "Rowena!"

"It's just back pain."

"It is not! I have to time them!"

She stiffened again, gasping.

"Again?" Helga asked, panicked.

"Worse," she managed. "Much worse."

"Oh – oh goodness, Rowena, you're in labour!"

"I'm not in labour, I-"

She broke off, eyeing a little pool of water that was spreading across the tiles. "Did you knock over the bucket?" Helga asked faintly.

When Rowena spoke, her voice was carefully controlled. "Helga. I'm really scared. Did my waters just break?"

"Rowena! If you hadn't wanted to wash the bloody floor, this wouldn't have happened!" Helga was panicked now, and Rowena replied, just as panicked "This is supposed to happen! My waters are supposed to break!"

She was right. Helga desperately tried to remember her little training, but nothing would come to mind. "I need to get the midwife," she said in panic.

"No!" Rowena said, bent over in pain. "No midwife, Helga, you promised, I can't have a midwife-"

"Alright-" Helga forced her heartbeat to slow. This was on her, completely on her, but she had to know what she was doing. She helped Rowena to the bed, fetched some old sheets and spread them under her.

"Relax, Rowena," she said, squeezing her hand.

"HELGA, I CAN'T RELAX, THERE IS A BABY FORCING HER WAY OUT OF MY VAGINA."

Rowena began to pant, her hair stuck to her forehead in sweat. "This....this is horrible."

"Come on. Think of Helena."

"I don't want to do this anymore!"

"I'm sorry, Ro, but it's too late."

"I didn't mean that! I'm sorry!"

 

Almost three hours later, there was finally a separate cry. Rowena, her cheeks wet with tears and sweat, sobbed. However, she grew panicked, sobbing harder. "Where are you taking our baby, Helga? Are you leaving me?"  
Helga was crying, but she laughed shakily. "I'm washing her, she - she's so beautiful."  
She came back into view, carefully clutching a bundle in wrapped in a shawl. She placed the little bundle in her arms, and Rowena began to cry at how beautiful she was. She kissed her wrinkled forehead and whispered "Hello. I'm your mama."

Helena's little fingers splayed like a tiny starfish as she stared without focus. Rowena passed her over to Helga, who blinked tears away as she smiled. "Hello. I'm your other mama."

They began to laugh softly, both still crying, looking at the beautiful creature in her arms. "Here," Helga whispered, passing her back to Rowena, who let out a happy sob. Helena put her head on her chest, hearing the familiar heartbeat she had heard for nine months.

Helga went to clean up, but Rowena didn't notice, because she couldn't tear her eyes away from the beautiful little person they had created. She was so perfect. Ten little fingers. Ten little toes. A rosebud mouth. Two little pale eyelids. A light fuzz of black hair. A sweet little nose. Soft skin. "Helena," she whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

Godric smiled softly at the baby he was holding. In his large arms she looked like a doll, and he held her as though she were precious diamond. "She's beautiful," he whispered, his voice oddly husky.

"Here," Rowena reached out her arms from the bed, and he placed Helena into them, where she fit so easily as though she had always been there. "Shush, Helena," Rowena soothed, kissing her little head. Helga reached out a finger, and her tiny hand curled around it, ceasing her crying. "It must be nearly time for dinner," Godric said, after a moment. This felt personal, a family event that he and Salazar were not quite part of, which he understood. "Come on, Salazar."

Salazar understood, standing, and they said their goodbyes before departing.  
  


"She has your nose," Rowena said gently. "Look."

She had Helga's cute little button nose, which was currently wrinkled in her sleep.

"And your mouth," Helga whispered.

"She's so beautiful."

The power of the feeling she had almost scared Rowena. She loved this little person with everything in her. She had shared everything with her for the last nine months, and it felt perfectly natural to hold her little body in her arms. "Do you want to hold her?"

She placed Helena on Helga's chest, where she snuffled slightly and opened her eyes a crack. "Hello," Helga whispered again, and Helena moved her head, burrowing against the soft material of her robes.

"She recognises your voice," Rowena smiled through tears.

"Are you tired?" Helga asked, carefully supporting Helena.

She yawned. "Yes, actually. I think I'll have a sleep...."  
  


When she woke, her first thought was a simple word. _Helena_.

There was a little basket by her bed, and as she sat up slowly, her head came into view. She was on her back, her fists above her head, fast asleep. She looked up, hearing Helga come into the room. She was holding a cup of something. "You're awake," she smiled softly. "I have some potion for you."

Rowena took the cup from her and sipped it slowly as she looked in on Helena. "I didn't really expect it to feel like this," she admitted. "It's so...."

"Powerful," Helga replied, sitting with a creak on the bed. The summer sunlight streamed in through the window, shining off her golden hair. "Yes," Rowena sighed happily. "Powerful."

"Helena," Helga whispered.

Rowena turned to look at her, smiling. "I still think she'd prefer Godsalrowlga."

"No she wouldn't."

"It's a _classic_ name."  
  


********

_October, Scotland, 989 AD_   
  


Rowena stood in the bedroom, watching Helena where she slept in her crib. She never tired of watching her learn and grow. Helena sniffled, and she thought for a moment she was going to wake up, but she didn't. Footsteps behind her, and then Helga was beside her. "She's asleep, then?" She whispered.

"Yes," Rowena smiled, turning to her. "I'll need to wake her up soon for her feed."

Helga lowered her finger into the crib to touch Helena's soft cheek. She turned her head slightly, nuzzling it against her face.

"Isn't it beautiful," Helga said, smiling down at her. "How two people can make another?"

"Mm. You know, Helga," she said, feeling the smile that never seemed to slip off her face when she was around them. "I never thought I'd have children." She paused, thinking. "That might have been because Rosetta told me no man would ever want me."

"That's horrible!"

"Yes, well, she said no man wanted a wife who reads. I didn't tell her I didn't want a man."

"Well maybe you should have," Helga said, smiling at the thought of it.

"Yes," she laughed. "Maybe I should have. Oh Helga," she said, drawing her into a hug and closing her eyes as she inhaled the smell of earth and magic. "I love you both so much."

"So do I," Helga whispered, her curly hair tickling her face. "Oh Rowena, I love you and Helena more than anything."

Rowena untangled herself from the hug, looking back in at Helena, worried about her.

"Coming to bed?" Helga asked gently.

She nibbled her lip. "In a while."

Helga said nothing but fetched a blanket and a pillow for her.

********

_November, Scotland, 989 AD_   
  


"Godric, you are going to ruin that child," Salazar said. Godric had been holding Helena for the last hour, and she was now awake in his arms as he smiled down at her. "She's so beautiful, though," he said, lifting one of her tiny hands to wave at Salazar.

The side of her face was a little red, as she kept nuzzling it against his beard. "Would that hurt her?" He fretted.

"No," Rowena sighed from the couch in front of the fire. She was exhausted, as Helena hadn't begun to sleep nights yet, and was often hungry. Helga would have fed her, but of course she couldn't. Another reason she did not quite want to admit to herself was fear. The warm glow of motherhood had almost worn off, replaced by pure solid fear, fear that Helena would turn onto her stomach in the night and suffocate, fear that she would choke, no matter how much Helga tried to reassure her.  
The warmth of the fire was making her a little dozy, and so she closed her eyes as she said "Though it wouldn't hurt if you cut the ugly thing off completely, Godric, it's horrible."

"Alright," he said suddenly. "I will."

She opened her eyes. "Now?"

"Why not?" He passed Helena over to Salazar, then fetched a basin and a razor. "Don't cut yourself," Rowena murmured, yawning.

Helga came into the room, then, and she stopped. "What are you doing?"

"Godric's cutting off his beard," Salazar informed her.

"Alright. Are you tired, Ro?"

Rowena smiled at her as she said "Sit with me."

So Helga sat beside her, and she laid her head on her lap, the heat getting to her as she closed her eyes again and Helga began to stroke her hair. "Is Godric finished yet?"

"Nearly," he said, and there was the sound of him cursing.

"Sorry. Cut myself."

She would have rolled her eyes, were it not that they were closed.

"Now, then," he said, seemingly stepping back.

"Here, let me see," Rowena said to Helga, then opened her eyes and sat up.

Godric looked completely different, and far neater. She nodded her head.

"What do you think, Helena?" He asked her, picking her up again.

She took one look at him and started bawling. His face was alarmed, and Salazar said "She doesn't recognise you without all the hair."

"Shh, Helena, it's me."

But she wouldn't listen, crying until he passed her to Helga, at which stage she ceased crying, snuffling.

 


	17. Chapter 17

_February, Scotland, 990 AD_

Helga lay on the bed, blonde curls hanging in a little curtain, watching Helena kick her small legs and stick her tongue out at the ceiling.

"Who's the best baby at Hogwarts?" Helga cooed, tickling her so she giggled. "It's you, isn't it darling-"

"Helga," Rowena interrupted, coming into the room with a clean dress for Helena. "She's the only baby at Hogwarts. Please stop with the baby talk."

"She needs communication!" Helga protested as the bed creaked slightly, Rowena sitting with the dress, not putting it on to air the rash on Helena's legs.

"Yes, but I just hate that rubbish," she replied, giving a little smile, her eyes soft as she leaned forward to gently tickle Helena's chin. Their baby shrieked in delight, shoving her fist further into her mouth.

Helga rolled her eyes, sitting up. "Yes Ro, I'll start having conversations with her on the philosophy of life and death instead. Don't be ridiculous."

Rowena sighed happily, looking at her for so long she found herself beginning to laugh. "I hate when you do that, it makes me feel as if I have something on my face."

"Both of you are so wonderful I feel as if I shall wake up from a dream any second."

Helga leaned forward and kissed her gently, but the moment was interrupted by Helena giving one of her little screeches.

"Alright, alright, spoilt little miss," Helga said, breaking away and leaning over her, smiling. "No one's forgotten you."  
She blew a raspberry on her stomach, making her writhe and shriek with delight. "Who's Mama's little angel? Ooh, it's you, isn't it, pet? It's _you_!"

Rowena almost rolled her eyes.

 

Helena was lying on a mat on the floor, occasionally giggling to herself or sucking her fingers as they sat together discussing the opening of the school. "I have an idea," Godric said.

"Oh here we go," Rowena rolled her eyes. Recently, she had returned to her old self, now Helena was sleeping nights. However, this didn't fully mean she was getting a proper night's sleep. Rowena's brain was genius, and erratic. Sometimes she would remember in the middle of the night something she had been working on, and despite Helga's protests went down to her study to finish it, still in her nightgown. "What if," he left a dramatic pause as he always did.

"Yes?" Salazar asked impatiently.

"We had boats bringing them across the lake to the school. I meet them at the borders, bring them across, they're sorted, then sit to eat."

Rowen considered. Salazar nodded, unable to find fault.

"Alright," she said finally. "That's in order."

"And I've also been thinking-"

"Sounds like you've been doing a lot of thinking," Helga said.

"That's a first," Rowena said drily, earning a glare from Helga. "What?"

"Don't be mean. Godric, continue, if you can forgive her rudeness."

He inclined his head, smiling. "Why thank you. I was thinking we should have symbols, of a sort."

Salazar frowned. "But we already have symbols," he said, gesturing to the large banner of the lion, the eagle, the snake and the badger curling around the large letter H.

"More physical ones. Ones that emphasise our aims. For example-"

He picked up the sorting hat, which had previously been sitting silently on the table, and withdrew, with a sound of metal, a long silver sword with a ruby in the hilt. Helga recognised it as the same sword he had had when they first met. She jumped in surprise, then put a hand to her chest. "Really, Godric," Rowena said crossly. "Warn us next time."

"Sorry," he said, then held it up to the light so they could see the name engraved in it: Godric Gryffindor. "Goblin made," he said proudly. "Got it for my seventeenth birthday. I believe it represents defending, which is a part of bravery."

Rowena was thinking, judging by the narrowing of her blue eyes.

He laid the sword down on the table. "Have any of you got any kind of heirlooms, any kind of objects?"

Helga stayed silent. Her family, after all, had had nothing to their name apart from their little house, and each other, and yet they had been happy, happier, certainly, than Rowena, who had been so much richer but much lonelier. Helga looked to her.

She shook her head. "Nothing, really, except for the ring."

Godric's eyes went to her hand. "Where is it?"

Feeling slightly flushed, Helga held up her hand. The sapphires winked in the candlelight. Salazar smirked, and Godric smiled.

"Lovely. You could use that, I suppose, but it doesn't really symbolise intelligence, does it?"

"No," Rowena said, as Helga lowered her hand. "It doesn't."

"Helga?"

She shook her head quickly. "Sal?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then held up his wand, apparently speaking a silent charm as a golden locket appeared in his hands, the chain running through his fingers. An ornate emerald S was engraved on the surface, and it looked as though it opened. "This was my mother's," he said evenly. Salazar had not told them much of his past or childhood at all, and Helga had never asked, out of respect for his privacy. However, she knew he had not got on well with his father, and that his mother had died young.

However Godric did not have quite the same sensitivity. He eyed the little doors. "What's in it?"

For a moment, Helga thought he'd refuse, but then he pushed a catch and they sprung open. Two strand of hair, one black, one brunette, intertwined together in the shape of a heart. "My parents," he said, by way of explanation.

Helga felt tears rise in her throat. "Aw."

He snapped it shut again. "It's supposed to represent love, I imagine," he said. "But to me, it has always represented ambition."

"Ambition?" Helga asked, puzzled.

"Well she didn't love him. At all."

The tears sank back into her chest. "What?"

"He was almost twenty years older than her, and she was a gold digger. He was too foolish to see it. She died in childbirth."

"That's horrible," Helga said, growing upset at the thought of such deception. Rowena reached across and squeezed her hand by way of support.

He shrugged. "Politics. She got what she wanted, riches, wealth, a baby. Only she didn't really live to see me."

He seemed so uneffected by this, telling the story as though it had happened to an acquaintance, and not his own mother. It was so different to how Rowena spoke about the mother she had never known, always wistfully and slightly sadly. This made Helga even more upset. "Doesn't it bother you at all?" She asked. "That she died so young?"

His mouth opened slightly in surprise. "Why should it? She was twenty three. Many die younger. She made her own choices."

"But – but you don't know much about her, I can tell from the way you're speaking. Was she rich, or was she poor? Perhaps she had no other option but to marry your father. Perhaps she tried with everything in her to live for you."

He looked surprised, then said "I don't need to know about her, Helga. I see plenty like her at balls and such, desperate for riches and pretty dresses."

He was going too far; even Godric knew it, as he said "Salazar," his voice low and warning, his eyes flashing.

"Salazar, what made you like this?" Helga asked, unable to believe someone could be so cynical and bitter. He shrugged.

She rose, and Rowena, still clutching her hand, said quietly "Helga..."

"I'm going to take Helena for a walk," she replied, just as quietly, and let go of her hand, stopping to pick up Helena on the way out.

 

"Oh Helena," she sighed, sitting on a bench with her on her lap. Helena began to play with her curls, twirling them around her small fingers, laughing with delight as they sprang back. Despite her bad mood, Helga felt herself smiling. "You always bring my mood up, darling," she said, and then, "Kissies for Mama?"  
For some reason, she always spoke to her in Welsh when they were alone. It made their conversations feel more private, she felt, although it was silly as Rowena could speak up to six muggle languages, and five magical, Welsh included. Helena giggled and clapped her hands, puckering her lips as Helga kissed her nose and her little eyebrows.

"Helga?" She heard somebody say, and looked over Helena's head to see both Rowena and Godric coming towards her. They sat either side of her. "Don't apologise for him," she said softly before either could speak, pulling Helena's prodding fingers away from her eyes.

"I wasn't going to," Godric sighed. "Fey knows, I have enough problems with him sometimes."

"He's just so.....bitter," she said, as Helena lay her head against her chest, watching as a robin hopped across the birdbath.

"We don't know what kind of childhood he had," Rowena said finally. "And Helga....perhaps you should not be so sensitive. Bad things happen, you know."

Helga frowned at her. "Yes, but there's no need to take the anger you have about them out on others."

"Oh, I don't know," she sighed, and then said "I'm going to go and work on the lesson plans a little. See you a lunch."

She kissed Helena's head and Helga's cheek, and was gone in a swirl of blue.

Helga sighed. Godric watched Rowena go, and then said "Helga, I've always thought that we're similar. So, too, are they. I think we're the more emotional types, the easily hurt ones, and Rowena and Salazar are more the type to calculate. They don't do well with emotions, I think."

Helga thought of all the lovely romantic things Rowena had ever said to her, or done with her, and then thought of how she had seemed in the initial days, cold and icy.

"I suppose so," she sighed.

A slight breeze blew, ruffling Helena's light hair. "I think you need your hat, Miss Helena," Helga said lightly, reaching for it on the bench and tucking it around her ears. Helena wriggled unhappily, and Helena knew it would be off in a few minutes again.

"She'll be getting teeth soon, won't she?" Godric asked.

"She's started to suck on things, see," Helga said, as Helena shoved her fingers into her mouth. "I believe that means they're coming soon. Sore gums and sleepless nights, aye Helena?"

Helena gave a huge yawn, and Godric laughed. "I think it might be time for her nap," he said, smiling. "Before she gets grumpy."

"I think you're right," Helga said, rising.

"And listen, Helga," he added. "It's their way to be distant sometimes. Rowena loves you, a blind man could see it."

"And Salazar?" She asked, holding Helena as she wriggled to see over her shoulder.

"Well.....he's just a curmudgeonly bastard sometimes. I'd say he feels sorry, in his own way. He's just too stubborn to admit it."


	18. Chapter 18

_March_ , _Scotland_ , _990_ _AD_

Helena wasn't sleeping well at all these nights with her teeth, and it was at four in the morning that Rowena was rocking her, exhausted and begging her to sleep. "Come on, Helena, please, I've given you your cream!"

However, she kept bawling her little head off, even as she began to walk the room with her as Helga did.  
Rowena jiggled her a bit, rubbed her back, even rubbed some more of the cream onto her inflamed gums, but nothing doing as she kept weeping. "Look," she said, holding her so she was looking into screwed up brown eyes. "I know you're in pain and I'm sorry. But please just stop screaming."

Helena, understandably, didn't listen to this advice. She cried even harder, wriggling now as though desperate to be away, her little nightgown damp with sweat. Rowena began to grow uncomfortable, wondering if it was her own presence that was disrupting her. Perhaps she simply wanted Helga?

Eventually, the woman herself came into the room, her eyes sleepy. "Teeth?"

"Yes," Rowena said tiredly. "I didn't want to wake you again, I can't get her to sleep."

Helga held out her arms. "Here."

Rowena passed Helena over, and she supported her, gently patting her back. "Oh dear, she's all hot, Ro. Here, help me take off her nightgown."

Rowena did so, watching as Helga carefully pulled the baby out, kissing her head. "Now, darling, that's much better, isn't it? Your little legs can get cool."

She began to walk with her, and to Rowena's surprise, Helena stopped crying after a few minutes, resorting to miserable little sniffs, putting her head against Helga's shoulder whilst Rowena stood standing, empty handed and flustered.

"I know," Helga said soothingly. "I know, Lena Beana, it's them poor aul tooths, isn't it?"

Rowena winced. "Those poor old teeth, Helga, if you would."

Helga didn't reply. Helena's breathing grew calm, her head lolling, and Rowena exhaled.

"How did you get her to sleep so easily?"

She shrugged as best she could, then sighed. "You can go back to bed, Ro, she's calmed."

"Alright," she said tiredly. "Goodnight."

 

"Mama," Helena said, one day as they were alone, Helga doing some washing as she played on the floor. The word was slightly mumbled, but it was clear.

Helga froze. "What?"

Helena shoved her fingers into her mouth happily, oblivious.

"Ro-Rowena!" Helga called, stuttering slightly.

"Yes?" Rowena came into the room, looking tired, fluffing her hair with her fingers.

"She said Mama."

Rowena's fingers stopped. "What?" She whispered.

"Helena," Helga said. "Say it again."

As though she understood her, Helena took her hand out of her mouth, and said "Mama."

Helga and Rowena squealed as one and threw their arms around each other, crying on each other's shoulders until Rowena said breathlessly "Which one of us was she talking to?"

Helga stopped. "I don't know."

Rowena laughed, tears in her eyes, holding her face in her hands. Things had been rather tense since the mini argument the week before, but now any resentment had melted away as Helga whispered "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Rowena whispered, then kissed her lips quickly, pulling back and leaning her warm forehead against hers. "Foolish Helga. You have nothing to be sorry for."

********

_May, Scotland, 990 AD_

  
"That's Catrin," Helga told Helena on her lap, as Helena poked a pudgy finger at the screen of the mirror. Helga laughed.

"Is she your friend's daughter, then?" Catrin asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

Quickly changing the subject, she said, leaning forward slightly "Now. Did you ask your Mum about September?"

Catrin placed her hands under her chin. "Yes," she whispered. The background was dark; she'd told Helga she had to go under her bed to talk to her.

"What did she say?"

"She said..." Catrin bit her lip. "I asked her when Aidan was there. She was upset at first, and she said no, definitely no, for both of us."

"But then?" Helga asked, swatting Helena's prodding hands away from the mirror.

"When we went to bed she came in, and she told me that if I really wanted to go I could. And Elis and Anna too, once they're old enough."

A smile spread across Helga's face. "That's brilliant, Catrin!"

"But she can't pay for a wand or anything, so I might have to do without."

She nibbled her lip, and Helga said "Don't worry. We'll take care of that. What about Aidan?"

"He says he doesn't want to go. Elis copies him and says the same, but this morning he asked me if he could."

"That's brilliant," Helga said again, feeling a grin on her face. "Absolutely brilliant. We have room for all of you."

********

  
_June, Scotland, 990 AD_

  
"Rowena," Helga whispered after she blew out the candle. She had been oddly silent, and Rowena said "Yes?"

"Rowena, if you received a present, what would you want?"

A surprised laugh bubbled in her throat. "Oh Helga," she said, rolling over so she saw her face. "Do you have to make it so obvious?"

"You'd discover it anyway," Helga said, lying down and looking at her.

"Well," Rowena said thoughtfully, tracing the veins in her wrist, making her shiver. "I would like something.....clever."

"Clever?"

"Something useful. But also pretty."

"Shallow much?" Helga teased.

"There's no use having something nice if other people aren't going to covet it."

"That sounds like the kind of advice you got from your nursemaid."

"Governess, actually. She always said I had delusions of grandeur."

"And then you say you're not vain," Helga murmured with a smile, shifting, Rowena's eyes bright in the dim.

"I was brought up to like pretty things. You should be flattered."

"Mm. So – pretty and clever?"

"Yes. That should be it. Easy to please, aren't I? And not tacky junk, either."

"Yes, Rowena," she smiled. "I can very clearly see you aren't vain."

"Shush," Rowena laughed, kissing her before saying. "So. If I were to, just say, buy a present for you...."

Her tone was playful, her hair brushing her arm.

"Useful," she said, repeating Rowena's request. "Although, unlike some people, I don't mind what it looks like, or what it costs."

"You deserve only the best, my darling."

"Aye, and then you'll drain us dry of all money."

"I love when you say "aye," Rowena laughed, lying back down properly.

"Aye?"

"Aye," she giggled again.

"Aye, I do say aye sometimes, don't I?"

"Aye, it's very Welsh, aye."

They said "aye" to each other a few more times, before Helga said "Goodnight."

"Aye."

********

  
 _July_ , _Scotland_ , _990_ _AD_

  
Helena was tired out, sleeping in her crib after her long day. Rowena smiled down at her over Helga's shoulder. "Imagine," she whispered. "It'll be one year ago next week since she was born. One year now since I was pregnant."

"One year since you were crying over baby clothes and dead beetles," Helga said.

"Oh goodness. I'd forgotten. I was like you when you're on your monthlies."

"I'm not that bad, Rowena, you were crying over every little thing, and then you got worried I would leave you."

"Did I?" She asked, laughing. "I don't remember that."

"Aye, you did. You were crying, and you said – and I remember this exactly – "You're going to leave me now, aren't you, and marry some Welsh bastard."

Rowena buried her head in her shoulder, unable to conceal her smile. "Oh dear."

"I mean," Helga continued, turning. "As if I'd ever leave you and Helena."

They left the room, closing the door softly as Rowena looked up at her, her blue eyes shining beautifully. "Helga," she said seriously, and Helga was sure she knew what she was going to ask, but still said innocently "Yes?"

"Helga, have you got my present yet?"

"Maybe," she teased. "You don't know."

She pouted. "Ah, Helga, you know I have no patience."

She stuck out her tongue. "Well you'll have to wait, won't you."

A pause. "Have you got mine?"

"Ha!" Rowena pointed her index finger at her accusingly. "You have no patience, either."

"More than you."

"I'm a lady," she said primly. "Of course I do. It's required that ladies have patience."

"You're no lady."

She paused. "I'm not sure whether to be flattered or insulted."

"Go for flattered," Helga said, kissing her quickly before running into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Rowena followed, leaning against the doorframe. "Helga, tell me what it is. Please?"

"No," she said, sticking her head out, toothbrush in her mouth.

"A teeny weeny clue?"

"No. You'll just have to wait."

  
In the build up to September, they were full of panic. Godric became even more loud and exuberant, Salazar snapped at him more and more, Helga flapped around like a headless chicken and Rowena was panicked beyond all measure. Even Helena knew something was up, although she seemed to find it funny as she laughed at Godric looking for his wand. "Find it funny, do you Helly?" He demanded, overturning several cushions on the couch in what was now the staffroom. "We'll see how funny it is when you're old enough to have one. Bloody things should have tracking devices."

She laughed at him even more, toddling across to Helga, putting up her arms and saying "Mama. Up."

She had taken to calling Helga Mama, and Rowena Mother, which was fine by them. Godric was Uncle Godric, but in her baby tongue, she insisted on calling Salazar "Uncle Sally," sticking out her tongue and laughing at him as he grew steadily more annoyed. It was obvious, he said, who her mother was. To which Rowena replied "Which one?"

Of course, going back to the missing wand, Helga or Salazar, reading in the corner, could have summoned it, but Helga was preoccupied with Helena and didn't think of it, and Salazar thought the scene hilarious.

Helena ran her fingers down Helga's, bending her dark head. She ran her small fingers over Helga's ring, then looked up quizzically.

"That's the ring Mother gave me."

"It's pretty."

"Do you want to try it on?" Helga eased it off and put it on Helena's finger. Of course, it was much too large, and fell off as soon as she moved. She giggled, and bent to pick it up, proffering it to Helga just as Godric yelled in triumph and pulled out his wand from under the couch. In celebration, he made music, and Helga began to waltz with Helena, laughing. The baby began to giggle too, clapping her hands.

********

  
_August, Scotland, 990 AD_

  
Rowena sent out a letter, a simple one in which she stated what Hogwarts was for, and that it was completely free. On the last day of August, they had dinner together in the Great Hall. Four separate tables stood, each with a banner above. One larger banner united them all; the badger, lion, snake and eagle. Under the large banner was the staff table, where the five of them sat. Godric looked as though he were about to say something philosophical, and Salazar, getting into the spirit of things, began to chant "Speech, speech, speech!"

The others joined in, even Helena, who probably didn't know what it meant.

He rose, holding his goblet in one hand, and cleared his throat importantly. "When we came here," he said. "This was a barren wasteland, apart from the lake and the forest. And together, we came as one to build the greatest school that will ever be built!"

"I think that's going a bit too far...." Rowena murmured.

"It'll go great places," he said, looking down at her. "I mean it. In a thousand years," he said, looking around the hall. "I can imagine this place still filled with students."

"Fish," said Helena wisely. It was a word she kept repeating for not much reason.

"Exactly," said Godric, lifting up his goblet. "In the words of the great and wise Helena Ravenclaw – Fish."


	19. Chapter 19

They got ready for bed, and then Rowena said innocently, as Helga slid into the sheets "Helga, can I have my present?"

"I don't know," she said, teasing her even more. "Can you?"

She scowled. "Helga, it's not fair, you're being mean."

"Aye, I am, am I? Remind me who called who called who a selfish bitch because she wouldn't give her peanuts-"

"One time-"

"When there weren't any left-"

"I was pregnant-"

"Because you kept eating them, but you said I was hiding them from you because I was a greedy selfish bitch who wanted to eat them all."

"Pregnant," she crossed her arms. "I am not taking responsibility for anything I said or did while I was pregnant."

She seemed to remember something suddenly, and she uncrossed them and swung under the bed.

"Rowena!" Helga said in alarm.

"Getting something," she huffed, and murmured something with her wand before unearthing a package. "Here," she said, eyes glinting. "I have yours, so you have to give me mine."

"Alright, then, here," Helga fetched it, and they exchanged packages solemnly.

"Open yours first," Rowena said sweetly once she had it.

Helga felt her mouth drop open. "You've been pestering me every day for the last month, and now you want me to open mine first?"

"Mm."

Helga shook her head bemusedly and opened the package. A golden cup, engraved with a badger. The badger was intricately engraved, its fur beautiful onyx, its eyes inset with perfect little diamond. "Rowena..." she managed.

"That's not all," Rowena said with a smile as she saw a little piece of parchment, written on in familiar neat script. A poem.

Her eyes welled with tears. "Rowena," she sniffed. "That's beautiful."

"And," Rowena added. "Seeing as how much you don't like waste, it's charmed. One doesn't have to fill it at all. If you need a drink, it will provide, and food, too. It never runs out."

"How - how much did it cost?"

"Never you mind."

Helga fingered the beautiful decal, nibbling her lip as she looked up. "Ro, please tell me you didn't waste much money."

Rowena sighed in impatience. Helga was truly difficult to understand, sometimes. Money was short, occasionally, but they were doing their best, and especially with some money put aside for Helena, they could well afford it.

Helga looked upset. "Oh Ro, I haven't upset you, have I? I do love it, it's just-"

"I know. But you deserve the best, darling, can't you see? It didn't cost all that much."

This got her a watery smile. "Oh Ro," she breathed, hugging her and kissing her cheek. "I love it, and I love you."

Rowena smiled, pulling back, her chest easing. "I'm glad."

Helga swiped at her eyes, sitting back. "Ugh, I'm going all weepy - open the package, Rowena, before I start having a breakdown."

She opened the package very, very slowly, taking her time with the string and the paper.

"Rowena," Helga was beginning to grow impatient. "Just tear it open."

"Now who's impatient?" Rowena asked sweetly, but did as instructed, and gasped as she saw glittering sapphire. "Helga....."

The diadem was in the shape of a silver eagle, the centre inset with shimmering, beautiful sapphire the exact shade and colour as Rowena's eyes. Tiny little shimmering diamonds decorated it. "Helga," she said again, looking up, her face the picture of shock.

"You said you wanted something pretty," Helga said, smiling. "And as for your "delusions of grandeur" – well, you can be a princess now. Or a Queen, really."

"Oh Helga, Helga, Helga," she whispered. "You truly are amazing."

Her fingers danced over the words etched into it. "Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure."

She burst into laughter at the bawdy joke, and especially from Helga. "I imagine Godric told you of the joke," she smiled.

"Yes," Helga rolled her eyes. "He said you stated you wished it as your house motto, to see if anyone could understand it."

"More fool them," she smiled. "They'd think it a deeply insightful look at intelligence when really-"

They both burst into laughter once again. "I love it, Helga."

"Try it on," Helga said, glowing at the praise, and impatient to show the thing she was most delighted with.

She picked it up and slid it onto the crown of her head. It fit her perfectly, as it was charmed to, and instantly, she gasped at the perfect clarity of her mind, the sheer confidence that she could know anything-

"I know," Helga whispered in delight. "Something clever and useful."

"Helga," she managed. "Oh Helga, your charmwork is impeccable."

"It took me a while, and help from Salazar, but-"

Rowena took her face in her hands and kissed her so urgently she saw stars. "I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling back. "I had to do that. Helga," she whispered again, wiping her tears with long fingers, her touch soft and gentle. "You beautiful, beautiful person."

 ********

_September, Scotland, 990 AD_

 

Godric lead the first years in, and under the table, Rowena reached for Helga's hand. She squeezed it, feeling the edge of her ring, looking down. There were perhaps twelve children, and all except the Gryffindor twins and Catrin she recognised from the village. Catrin was chatting to Gilbert, and she was happy she had seemed to find friends. The girl looked up at her, and gave a little wave, which she returned. "Now then," Rowena whispered on her ear. "To start the little competition between myself and Godric."

They had bets on how many each would get in their houses. Helga rolled her eyes, smiling. "You're each as bad as the other. In fact, I'm surprised you aren't siblings."

"As if I'd lower myself to sharing blood with that walking disaster," she sniffed. She was wearing her diadem; the diamonds glittered amongst her black hair like the stars in the night sky overhead. Godric rolled out a sheet of parchment, and the talking stopped. "When I call your name," he said, looking up and winking at Helena, who giggled and snuggled into Helga's side, already tired. "You'll sit on the stool, and the hat will pick your house."

They looked somewhat apprehensive. "Ashdown, Catrin!"

Catrin came forward, looking rather small and intimated. She sat on the stool, and Godric placed the hat on her head. It was so big it almost covered her eyes, and several seconds passed before the hat yelled "Gryffindor!"

Helga let go of Rowena's hand and clapped hard, along with everyone else, including Rowena who breathed "Bollocks."

Catrin made her way to the scarlet table, smiling at her aunt as she passed. There was a Fallon, James, who turned out to be the first Slytherin, and then "Gryffindor, Arthur!"

Arthur came forward, and grinned, looking perfectly at ease. "Pure Gryffindor," Salazar murmured, on her other side. She nodded in agreement, and certainly, the hat had barely touched his head before it yelled "Gryffindor!"

He went over to the table and joined Catrin, who smiled at him as he sat. "Gryffindor, Gilbert!"

Now, Gilbert Helga was unsure of. He was not as brash and impulsive as his brother or uncle, and was much quieter. The hat took much longer with him, almost a minute. Salazar frowned. Helena seemed to have fallen asleep, and Helga lifted her onto her lap where she lolled her head against her shoulder, sucking her thumb.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat called, and she felt a smile inch across her face as Salazar murmured "Well done."

Gilbert, looking slightly dazed, moved to the yellow table. Across the hall, Arthur looked shocked. The names trickled down until there were three apiece, and Rowena sighed. "Ah well."

"You're so competitive," Helga laughed.

 

After dinner, Helga showed her Hufflepuffs to their dormitory by the kitchens, and showed them the combination for the barrels. "It's quite simple," she smiled, knocking on the final one. "Once you get the hang of it."

The door swung open. Inside was charmed to fit as many were required. First was the common room, a cheery, cosy yellow room with a roaring fire and comfortable armchairs. Further on were the dormitories, two corridors leading in separate directions to the girls and boys. "Gilbert," she said in undertone, as the other boy, Percival, was examining his bed with delight. "Are you quite alright?"

He looked rather peaky. "I'm fine, Professor," he mumbled. "It's just.....Arthur was making all this stuff about how we'd both be in Gryffindor, and Father said of course we would. But I'm not."

"Oh Gilbert," she said, smiling at him. "It doesn't matter which house you're in. Your family will love you no matter what, of course they will. And Arthur, if I know him, will sneak in here tonight to see you."

"He won't."

"We'll just see."

 

Later on, back at the cottage when she was knitting a cardigan for Helena, Rowena's wand began to spin, just as she was undressing. She picked it up and looked at it, a little smile appearing on her face. "What do you know, Helga, you were right. Two people have just gone into the Hufflepuff common room."

"Two?"

"Perhaps Catrin is there too," she said, finishing undressing and climbing into bed.

"It's nice to see she has friends already," Helga said, putting away her knitting and exhaling happily. "Oh Rowena, everything is so magical."

Rowena laughed and said "The castle is made up of magic, Helga."

"That's not what I meant," she said, smiling at her. "Everything is so perfect. I feel like I should wake up any second and find myself still in Wales, working as a maid."

"You must have been rather lonely," Rowena mused, as they lay down. "On your own."

"I did have some friends," she said absentmindedly. "And there's some worse off."

Rowena laughed. "There you go again with the positivity. You walked, Helga. All the way from Wales to Hogsmeade."

"Mm," she replied. "It wasn't that far at all - it's near the border-"

"But Hogsmeade is in the north, much further up, and you had barely any money-"

Helga looked uncomfortable. "Stop making it out to be some heroic journey, Ro, it only took a few days, and many do things like it."

"Yes, well, nobody surprises me quite as much as you, my sweet little potato."

Helga grimaced. "Why do you insist on keeping that silly nickname?"

"It suits you," she hummed happily, and then, "Do you miss Wales?"

"Why are you asking that?" She said, turning over and seeing her face.

"Because sometimes you talk about it in your sleep," Rowena told her.

Her mouth opened in surprise. "Do I?"

"Yes."

"What do I say?"

Rowena's voice was tinged with humour as she said "Once you said "it's too grey in Scotland."

Her mouth twitched. "Oh dear."

"Do you miss it?"

"Hmm," she tried to think up an answer. The green fields and hills of Wales were in her memory, and a part of her ached to be that little girl again, running with her sister without a care in the world. "A little."

"Oh."

"But," she said, wriggling into her arms. "I'd miss you more if I went back. And Helena. Do you miss your childhood home?"

Rowena snorted. "Not a chance."

Outside, the pitter patter of the rain against the glass started and Helga sighed happily. "I do like the rain," she said, leaning her head on Rowena's arm.

Rowena laughed sleepily. "You're the only one who does."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If anyone's confused as to the wit, wit is an old word for dick, as seen in Romeo and Juliet;)


	20. Chapter 20

Rowena and Helga had discussed it, and really the only way they could see it working was if they got someone to look after Helena while they were teaching. Therefore, this was why it was with a heavy heart Helga wrapped her up warm in her hat and coat. "She'll be fine," Godric reassured. "Once she gets settled in."

On Godric's lap, Helena, seemingly not realising what was happening, sucked happily on the ear of her toy rabbit. "Oh Helena," Helga sighed, but left her to it.

She picked her up. Rowena was pale and picking at her food, and this was how Helga knew she was also anxious. "Goodbye," she whispered, not kissing her seeing as they were in the Great Hall, in front of the students. Rowena nodded quickly, and Helga left the castle, disapparating to Hogsmeade once outside the gates. The lady who had agreed to look after Helena, Penny Brightwell, was a kind middle aged women with several children of her own, who took Helena from Helga's arms. Helena, realising what was happening, began to cry. Helga felt like her heart was breaking, tears blooming in her eyes. All she wanted to do was steal her child back and run home, keep her with her forever. But of course, she couldn't.

"The bairn will be fine," Mrs Brightwell said, as Helena cried, her face red, reaching for her.

"Trust me, dear."

"Are you sure?" Helga said, sniffling into her handkerchief.

"I've seen it before. She'll be settled in no time. Now Helena, say goodbye to Auntie Helga."

It felt odd to be referred to as such, so much so that Helga was shocked out of her tears. "Mama," Helena wept, her face red and screwed up.

Mrs Brightwell's eyebrows knitted together.

"Oh," Helga said, wiping her cheeks. "That's a habit she's got into."

She kissed Helena's wet cheek, and left, still sobbing out in the street.

 

Helga looked to the students sitting in front of her. They had been about to divide them into classes and such, but she had stopped them. "How many of you can read?"

There were a few shuffles. Catrin, Gilbert, Arthur and two of the Ravenclaws, the girl and one of the boys, raised their hands. Helga bit her lip. "Alright. How many of you can read well?"

Catrin and the two Ravenclaws lowered their hands. "Alright then. How many of you can write?"

Again, Catrin, Gilbert, Arthur and the two Ravenclaws. "How many of you can write well?"

And again, Catrin and the two Ravenclaws lowered their hands. The Ravenclaw girl, who had sharp features that reminded Helga of a fox, complete with her coppery hair, spoke.

"Um, Professor? My father tried to teach us, but he only knew the basics...."

"It's alright, Velma, you won't get in trouble," Rowena spoke.

Velma visibly relaxed.

 

"You should teach them to read, Helga," Salazar said, as they sat together in the staff room. She gaped, stilling in drinking her tea. "What? Why not you?"

"Because I have very little patience. And Rowena has even less. You have yards of the stuff."

"What about Godric?" She asked, then said quickly "Actually, I see your point."

Godric had patience, especially when it came to sick animals, which he often nursed back to health, but grew quickly bored with what he called "book learning." He preferred to be outdoors, to be lively, not stuck in a classroom all day reading. This was why he would be teaching Care Of Magical Creatures and Defence Against The Dark Arts, which he had always been brilliant with. He had forgone an office, as he hated to be crammed indoors. Salazar on the other hand, was Astronomy and Potions, and had told the students that if they stuck one toe out of line he'd curse them all, which Helga wasn't entirely sure was the right way to go about discipline. He'd built dungeons, for his office, and, of course, the Slytherin dormitories.

She herself was to teach Herbology, of course, and Charms, which she'd always had an interest in. She had no need for an office, just her greenhouses and her classroom would do fine. Rowena then had Transfiguration and Arithmancy, and flatly refused to allow Divination to be a subject. Her office was on the third floor, and she also had a workroom in their cottage. As student numbers grew, of course other teachers would be required and subjects would be limited, but for now they were free to teach their own way, and their own way they would. A sudden thought came to her as she picked up her tea again, something she'd never asked "How do you get into your dormitories and common room?"

He arched an eyebrow, sipping his own tea, which was a vivid green. "There's a simple door and password, of course. I'm not theatrical, like some people."

Unlike Helga's simple pattern and Salazar's password, Rowena and Godric had, as always, gone all out. Godric had a portrait of himself in front of the hole, guarding it, only letting in those with a password or "people he liked the look of" as he put it. At this, Salazar had apparently been slightly worried he would start letting in vagrants off the street. Rowena had a large silver eagle which asked a riddle that for the life of them Helga and Godric could never guess. Salazar, however, made it a game to challenge it to riddles, often beating it. "You know," Salazar said, putting down his cup. "I'm surprised they're not blood siblings."

 

The minute all classes were finished Helga rushed down to Hogsmeade to collect Helena, but unlike the wailing, shrieking child she expected, she found a perfectly content one who was playing at a wooden puzzle with two small children. "You see," Mrs Brightwell said happily. "I told you she would be fine."

Helena spotted her then, and a happy smile spread across her face as she stood and toddled over, and Helga picked her up and hugged her tightly. "Did you have a nice day?"

She nodded her head, looking around the small room as Mrs Brightwell said "We had fun, didn't we pet?"

"Thank you," Helga told her, paid her, and then left.

 

When she got back, Rowena was waiting. She put Helena down for her nap before Rowena said "How was she?"

"Happy," Helga told her, turning and smiling. She looked far better than she had all day, and this relaxed Rowena slightly. "She looked like she was having fun."

Relief shot through her, because as silly as it was, she had been worried sick. "I'm glad. I was worried."

"So was I," Helga told her, making her way through to the couch, where she flopped, yawning. "You know, I could use a nap myself, I'm exhausted."

Rowena laughed, then sat beside her, and let her rest her head against her as she replied "You deserve it, you're teaching twelve children to read."

"It's not bad at all, they're quick learners. I wonder how it was for you with me."

"You were a great student," Rowena said with a smile, looking down at the blonde curls that were spilling across her stomach. "You never irritated me."

"Hmm. Never?"

"Welllll maybe once or twice, but that was it."

"Aye, and then you were smiling at me."

"What's wrong with smiling?" She asked.

"It was the softest smile I'd ever seen you have on your face. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life."

"Aw that's nice, Helga. But honestly, I don't think I'd have half the patience you have with them...."

She trailed off because Helga's eyes were closed, dainty little golden eyelashes brushing her cheeks. Rowena laughed softly and kissed her forehead, putting her down on the couch and pulling the blanket over her.


	21. Chapter 21

Helga's gentle smiles and endless patience meant that by the end of it, the students adored her, and even the Slytherins had a grudging respect for her. During lunch, Godric raised his wand, and it went off with a loud bang, making several people including Helga jump, Rowena and Salazar to scowl, and some of the students to look outright frightened. "Ah...." Godric said, looking down at it. "Wasn't meant to be quite so loud. To Professor Hufflepuff for her patience!"

Helga flushed, but smiled as they applauded her.

******** 

_November, Scotland, 990 AD_

 

It was hard to believe that the students had only been here for two months, as it seemed like they had always been. It had snowed, and they were ecstatic, running around and pelting each other with snowballs, and even Godric was joining in, which made them burst out laughing, because he looked quite ridiculous.

"Isn't Uncle Godric a fool, Helena?" Rowena asked her, from where she was sitting on Helga's lap, wrapped up so tightly you could just about see her face. "Fool," she agreed, and Helga laughed despite herself. "It won't be long until you're running around out there, will it Helena?"

She wriggled, far more concerned, at present moment, with the shiny thing on the ground, which turned out to be a button that must have fallen off Godric's coat. The man himself came trampling over the snow, happily brushing it off his shoulders. "Morning, everyone," he said, sitting down on a chair he materialised from somewhere.

"I see you were running around like a child," Rowena commented, looking up from her book.

"Nice morning for it," he said cheerfully.

"For what?" A voice came, from behind his large frame. "Running around like a mentally challenged kangaroo?"

Helga's mouth twitched. This was what she loved between their quartet, when they were all together, the humour and fondness. She wished that these weren't the same men who regularly bit the heads off one another. "Push up, Ro," Salazar ordered, and she huffed but moved her chair so he could fit, thereby ending up practically sitting on Godric.

"Skinny arse."

"Lummock," she said, pulling her chair back with a scrape of metal that made Helena laugh. The more loud and annoying a noise, the more she seemed to love it, which showed, Rowena said, why she loved Godric so much. She reached for him now, and he sat her on his lap as she giggled. "You're cold."

"Cold?" He took off his gloves and placed pale hands on her cheeks, and she shrieked with delight. "Cold!"

There was something off about Godric the last while, Helga fretted. Perhaps it was that his mother had passed away a month before. There was nothing, she knew, that reminded one so much of their own mortality than the death of a parent. But perhaps she was wrong.

"Isn't it hard to believe that we're already halfway through the school year?" She said, her exhalation of breath creating mist. Over by the castle entrance, someone shrieked as someone else whacked them violently with a snowball and Rowena roared "Again, and you'll be facing detention, Michael!"

"Sorry Professor!" He called sheepishly, and she turned back to Helga with a sweet smile. "Sorry dear, you were saying?"

"Um. Yes."

Helga was finding herself becoming quite lightheaded by Rowena staring at her. Her blue eyes were almost sucking her in. "Stop staring at me," she giggled.

Salazar sighed. "Do you two ever fight?"

"Um," said Rowena, not looking away from Helga. "Sometimes."

"It's quite sickening."

No reaction. Helga was becoming lost in pools of blue. Salazar snapped his fingers. "We are here! Hello!"

"Sorry Salazar," she said rather breathlessly, looking up. "It's called falling in love."

"It seems like a terrible affliction."

"Well you'll never know what it feels like – ow!"

Salazar had just rapped Godric over the head with his wand. He winced. "Ow. Well. Seriously, girls, how are you still so wrapped up in each other? Hey? Hello?"

He shook his head bemusedly. "I don't suppose you know, Helena."

Helena shook her head, determinedly trying to pull off his other buttons.

********

_January, Scotland, 991 AD_

 

"Happy Birthday Salazar!" Helga said happily.

"What's happy about it?" He said glumly, pulling his plate towards him and beginning to eat his sausages rather morosely.

"Um....because it's your birthday."

"That doesn't merit being happy."

It was here that Helga exchanged a Look with Godric. Salazar had never wanted to tell them the date of his birthday, and it had only been obtained by threats from Rowena, finally after five years. "Well what age are you?"

"Too old."

"Goodness, you really are in a slump, aren't you?" Godric said, looking thoughtful.

 

"A surprise birthday party for Salazar."

Rowena groaned. "No."

"Ah come on, the poor old bastard's miserable."

"Probably because he knows this will happen now you know his birthday."

"I think it's a rather good idea," Helga said cheerfully.

"You would," she said, rather drily.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that your sense of judgement isn't great sometimes, my love. Honestly. He'll kill you both."

"Perhaps we'll get the students involved," Godric mused.

Rowena stared at him in abject horror. "Joking," he said quickly.

 

In the end, all they did was, thankfully, get the house elves to bake a cake (admittedly with neon green icing and multicoloured candles that sang in Gaelic at an annoyingly high pitch, but, as Rowena said, we can't all win)

Helena poked them experimentally, then laughed as they sparked. "Helena!" Helga chided. "Don't poke the candles like that. It could be dangerous. And leave the cake alone."

They sat at the table in the staff room, waiting for Salazar, whom they had sent an invitation. Really, Rowena could admit, their enthusiasm was rubbing off slightly.

The door handle turned, and then they all yelled "SURPRISE!"

Salazar stopped. He stared. He covered his face with his hands. He lowered them. "Godric," he said. "Helga."

"Surprise, Salazar!" Helga trilled happily, refusing to let him dampen her spirits. "Are you going to blow out your candles?"

"Oh," he said. "Well.....I may as well."

"Excellent – Helena, have you been mucking around with the icing?"

Helena had glowing green icing around her mouth, on her dress, her fingers and in her hair. Curiously enough, there was now finger shaped tracks in the icing. "No," she said guiltily.

Salazar burst out laughing, as did Godric and Rowena, and Helga's mouth twitched. "Oh Helena," she sighed.

"I didn' mean to, Mama, but I was hungry."

"Right," she said, laughing. "But I still think you'll need a bath."

"Here," Salazar said, oddly much happier than he had been, lifting her up. "Help me blow out the candles."

They continued to sing as they puffed.

"Thank goodness," Helga sighed as Helena enthusiastically blew out the last one. "I was rather getting a headache."

They had their slices of cake, and Godric said mischievously "Sal, you never told us what age you are."

"It matters not," he said briskly, wiping glowing icing off his hands with a napkin

"Oh I think it does. You know our ages. Helga and Rowena are both twenty six. I'm twenty seven. What are you?"

"Right," he said, seemingly making up his mind, dropping the rolled up napkin. "But this is never mentioned again. Thirty one."

"Thirty one?" Helga asked in amazement.

"Yes," he said stiffly.

"Well," Godric said, sitting back in the chair. "From the way you were guarding it, I would have said you were about two hundred and forty three. Thirty one."

"Indeed."

"That's old."

"Thanks, Helena."

 

At some point, presumably after several glasses of firewhisky, Godric got it into his head that he wanted to dance, and so started a waltz and brought a giggling Helga to the floor, while Rowena and Salazar took the other half. Helena laughed and clapped her hands, but soon grew bored and wanted part of it herself. "What about me?"

"So sorry, Lady Helena," Godric purred, bowing in front of her, then picking her up and dancing around the room as Helga went to Salazar, but he shook his head, breathless, and sat. So instead, she went to Rowena. "May I have this dance?"

"You may indeed, Lady Hufflepuff."

"I'm no lady," she said, repeating what she had told Godric years before.

"You have the manners of one," Rowena parroted, smiling at her as she twirled.

Soon enough, Salazar announced he had actually had a great time, unexpectedly, but now he was going to bed, and left. Soon after, Godric went, leaving Helena wrapped up in Helga's cloak on the bench, where she sucked her thumb. Helga cleared the dishes, and then smiled at her fondly. "She's so sweet."

"I know," Rowena said, before bending slightly and picking her up gently, lifting her up against her shoulder, where she shifted slightly, but didn't waken. They extinguished the candles, and went back to the cottage. "I don't suppose she'll have a bath after all," Helga smiled, seeing the green icing in her black curls.

"Tomorrow," Rowena replied, leaning over the crib, looking down at her.

Then she looked up, smirking. "Salazar's thirty one."

"So we finally know," Helga said with a smile.

"I had my bets on him being immortal."


	22. Chapter 22

_April, Scotland, 990 AD_  


Rowena and Salazar were playing chess in the staff room, in the break between classes. Rowena's brow was furrowed as she surveyed the board, which was almost equal. Salazar was the one person who had ever been able to rival her at chess. She poked her knight forward, and he violently bludgeoned pawn after pawn, throwing them off the board before stopping.

"Good move," Salazar allowed, then poked his remaining pawn forward. "Did you know, Rowena," he said carefully. "That if we refused to teach muggleborns, then the spread of halfbloods would be far less?"

"Halfbloods aren't a disease, Salazar," she sighed. He was deliberately provoking her, she thought, and she knew full well why. He knew of her upbringing, and knew she was the only one of the other three who might possibly listen to him. "And you know yourself that the laws are becoming more lax."

"By introducing muggles and purebloods, we're encouraging such unions."

"Really Salazar," she said, feeling an odd smile surface on her lips as she looked up from the board. "You are a tremendous hypocrite. Myself and Helga you will accept, but not, say, a muggle man and a witch?"

"At least you are both magical, however strong it is in Helga."

Her finger above her pawn twitched. Abuse towards herself she would take, but never towards Helga. Salazar got in these moods sometimes, these odd, teasing, almost cruelly mocking moods. She moved the finger, instead directing the knight forward.

She paid for her lapse in concentration; he won, and she gnashed her teeth as she sat back and the pieces moved back. "Gah. That was only because my mind was away."

"Of course," he said, grey eyes glinting.

"I have a riddle for you."

Conversations with Salazar were always far more intellectual than with Godric and Helga, and she relished them, though she wouldn't have admitted it. "It took me a half hour, almost."

His brow arched in interest. "Go on."

She wondered, momentarily, what Godric and Helga's conversations were like when they were alone. Probably not riddles and chess. She looked at the time, and saw it was almost twelve, thereby almost time for Transfiguration. "What's black when you get it, red when you use it, and white when you're all through with it?"

He sat back, and stroked his pointed beard. "Ooh."

"I'll leave it with you, then," she said, rising, a smirk on her face that she tried to suppress. That would teach him for beating her at chess. Terribly petty, as Helga would say, but what was a girl to do?  


Helga was embroidering a rich tapestry, a new hobby she had recently taken up. Rowena had done it as a child, apparently, and hated it, but Helga found it delightful how all of the tiny little threads came together to make one big beautiful picture. Sometimes she imagined that the magic deep within the core of Hogwarts looked like the threads, beautiful golds and silver, violets and cobalt, all of the colours of the rainbow interweaving together. Godric was standing at the window, looking down at the wet grounds outside, and she asked pleasantly "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the rain to clear," he said, sitting down. Even sitting down, his fingers tapped on the wood of the chair. Helga wondered about his nursemaid as a child. She wondered if the poor woman was still alive. "Don't you just get claustrophobic inside sometimes?"

"Not particularly," she said, smiling at his obvious discomfort. "Oh Godric, relax, the woods will still be there when you go out."

He sighed, then watched her embroider her picture of Hogwarts; it wasn't finished yet, and so the snow she had chosen to add fell from the top of the picture into the bleak nothing of the bottom. "Are you alright?" Helga asked carefully, putting down her needle. He looked up in surprise. "Alright? I'm perfectly fine, Helga, don't worry."

He didn't much look it.

"Are you sure? Are you getting enough sleep?"

He sighed. "Ah Helga. I've just been thinking too much. I mean....I'm almost twenty eight."

She nodded slowly, not following.

"And what have I done, really? Rowena has created Hogwarts, without her none of this would be here. You've worked, you've travelled, you've lived. Fey knows what Salazar has done, and I'm just....well, do you think I'm childish?"

His green eyes were earnest. "Ah," Helga didn't like lying, partly because she wasn't very good at it. "You can be," she admitted. "Sometimes. But it's part of your charm."

"Yes," he sighed. "Perhaps. When I was a child, I had my parents and the houseleves to do everything for me. I used to feel smothered, you know. Used to take my father's sword and pretend I was a knight, and some day I'd ride off and live adventures, save pretty maidens. I was always sick of the money, which is why I decided to go to Hogsmeade. My point is, I've just basically been sailing through life without really living it. I never got my adventures or the pretty maidens. Everything's always been handed to me, even now, and I just....I feel like I should have earned it, like you and Rowena have, or even Salazar."

He took a breath, and Helga blinked. "Oh Godric. I'm glad that's off your chest."

She put down the tapestry and sat beside him, throwing her arms around him. "You can still go off on your adventures. We can get a replacement. Save pretty maidens and be a knight, you know."

He laughed, and hugged her tightly. "Ah Helga, you always know how to make things better."

"Are you going?" She asked him, pulling back. The thought of him leaving both upset and worried her, but if he wanted to go, she was in full support of it.

"I'll think about it," he said finally, and then grinned. "But if I do, it'll only be for a few months, tops. And I'll be expecting my job back, too."

"Of course," she laughed.  


********

 _May, Scotland, 990 AD_  


Helga hold off until Godric had told Salazar, who nearly hit the roof, before asking his permission to tell Rowena. She did so at night, when they were in bed and therefore she couldn't throw anything. "He wants to leave?" She asked, flabbergasted.

"No – well, yes, Rowena...."

This was what she'd feared. Salazar and Rowena didn't seem to understand how much it meant to him. Helga had seen it herself. He was frightened at the rate he was growing old at, even if he wouldn't admit it. "He'll be back," she whispered after a moment, when Rowena was quiet and the only noise was chickens outside, who clucked somewhat sleepily. "That's not the point."

Rowena's voice was rather flat.

"Oh Rowena," Helga sighed. "This is very childish."

"It's not childish. He's leaving."

"Only for a few months."

"He's leaving."

"You know what, Rowena?" Helga said finally, as Rowena didn't say anything else.

"What?" She said, looking up, her blue eyes indecipherable.

"I think you just don't want him to go because you never had friends as a child and so built up unrealistic expectations."

She'd been reading some of Rowena's books. Rowena wrinkled her nose, and then said "That's bullshit."

"And now you can't take it, because he's leaving you and you think that's not what a friend should do."

"Helga, leave me alone, you're not a psychiatrist."

"You're being very selfish."

She hesitated before delivering the kicker. "I expected better."

Rowena opened her mouth as though to say something, and then closed it. "When did you become so passive aggressive?"

"I've been reading about the best ways to avoid an argument," she confessed.

"That explains it. It's not working."

"We're having a kind of passive aggressive argument."

"There's going to be passive aggressive shouting in a moment."

"If there is, I'll passive aggressively curse you," she said, feeling a small smile come onto her lips. Rowena said "Well then I'll be forced to passive aggressively curse you."

"Be serious."

"You be serious."

Helga stuck her tongue out at her, and incredulously she said "That's childish!"

"I'm allowed to be childish, I'm two months younger than you. And cuter. And.....Welsher."

Rowena sulked. "You're a bitch."

"You're a bigger bitch."

Surprisingly, they were smiling at each other, even as Rowena said "The Welsh language is an unattractive glottal minefield of nasal mutations and missing vowels."

"The Scottish language is a guttural choking that hurts my ears."

They both laughed, and then Helga said "Rowena...."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"That's all I wanted to hear," she kissed the side of her head, then said "Though I'm not sure you deserve that, given by the slur you gave my language."

"Helga, I'm very sorry."

"Hm," she sniffed. "That doesn't quite cut it."

"Helga, I offer my most sincere apologies after my dreadful slur on the beautiful Welsh language."

"Hm," she said again. "I might be inclined to forgive you if you kiss me."

Rowena leaned forward and kissed her forehead, her chin, both of her cheeks, her nose and then her mouth in rapid succession. "Is that enough?"

"Quite."


	23. Chapter 23

_ June, Scotland, 990 AD _

Dormitories had been cleared, trunks packed, owls stuffed into cages, and now everybody was ready to go. Helga checked that they had everything, bending to hug Catrin, telling her to give her family her best, moving on to where the rest of the girls were gathered in a group around Juliana, who seemed to have gotten into a spot of bother and accidentally dyed her hair a horrible shade of vivid orange. "I was trying to make it blonde!" She sobbed.

"Stay still dear-" Helga tapped her head, and her hair slowly turned back to normal.

"Thanks Professor!" She said, and Helga moved before all the others were clamouring.

"They're all ready to go," she told Godric, and he left with them. She stood with Rowena and Salazar, watching as they moved towards the lake, growing smaller and smaller. "Gone until September," Rowena murmured.

"We have more students coming in," Salazar replied. "Word has spread, apparently. So that means more teachers. Godric could not have chosen a worse time for his little excursion."

Helga knew that in Salazar language, this really meant "I'm going to miss him."

"We'll manage," she said brightly. "But what we must get is a matron."

"Fey forbid the little ones fall and smash their heads open."

"Salazar!" She scolded, as they went back inside, looking forward to the short break, and then back to the school year.

********

_ July, Scotland, 990 AD _

Helena 's second birthday came and went, and she was growing so fast that Rowena could hardly keep track. Godric had decided to leave at the end of July, returning, he said, at maximum February. It was with a grim mood, though an understanding one, that they clustered at the border. They had not been apart, properly apart, since they had met, odd though it seemed. "Godric, be safe," Helga said tearfully, kissing his cheek. "You have your extra jumpers, your cloak, and your toothbrush, and money, and-"

"Yes Helga," he said fondly. "Of course."

"Try not to get in too much trouble," Rowena said, kissing his cheek. "Or it'll reflect badly on all of us."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes Rowena."

"And for fey's sake don't be stupid."

"Yes Rowena."

She looked suspiciously red eyed as he went onto Salazar, who gave him a stiff hug. "Just be careful," he said, oddly gruffly.

"Of course."

Helena had not seemed to really understand, before, but now she looked quite upset. "I want to go too."

"Oh Helly you can't, you're too small."

"But Mama said I was big!" She wailed, her little face scrunching up. "I – want- to – go!"

He kissed her forehead, and Helga jostled her on her hip, but she kept crying.

"Uncle Goooodriiicc!"

"Go," Helga told him quietly. "She'll be fine."

He walked, looking behind him, then raised a hand in farewell. They waved back, and he turned on the spot and disappeared, just as Helga began to sob along with Helena, who was so surprised she stopped, and Salazar laid his hand on her shoulder.

The castle seemed empty without the students, but especially without the booming presence of Godric. Helena was colouring on the floor, occasionally sniffing, chewing on a banana as she did so. Salazar had departed to his cottage, and Rowena and Helga were sitting together on the couch, watching Helena colour.

"I'll miss him," Rowena managed, then wiped a tear out of her eye. She hadn't anticipated how much she would actually miss him.

"So will I. But I'm glad he's gone, because that's what he wanted."

"Me too. Helga, do you think he'll come back with a wife?"

"A wife?" She said in surprise. "Why would you think that?"

She shrugged. "Just a thought. He might, mightn't he?"

"Mm, I suppose."

This thought invoked very odd feelings in Rowena, and apparently Helga too. There was one part of her that cheered for Godric's happiness and yelled welcome to his new wife. And then there was another, selfish part of her that didn't want anyone else intruding on their quartet. "It'll be odd as well," Helga said finally. "With other teachers and such."

"We'll just have to be more careful," Rowena replied.

Helena had finished her banana and came over to the couch teary eyed. "Are you finished colouring?" Helga asked.

" 'm too sad," she said mournfully.

Rowena reached down and lifted her up, sitting her in the space between them, where she laid her head against Helga, sucking her thumb. 'S'not fair."

Helga leaned down and kissed her forehead, then said "Uncle Godric needed to go, darling, for a break. He'll be back."

"I didn't want him to go."

"I know," she sighed. "I know."

********

_ August, Scotland, 990 AD _

They began to set up the castle for the new year, and this meant, too, that Rowena would have to stop putting off replacing Godric, and put out advertisements for the two jobs, hoping she could find just one teacher for both. A few people applied, but they all seemed wrong. "I know what the problem is," Helga said wisely, sitting on the desk. The last man had just gone, bringing his cage of pixies with him, and Rowena was truly giving up hope. "What?" Rowena sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Your expectations are too high. No one is living up to the standard of Godric."

There was a pause, and then Rowena said with a tiny smile "Are you still reading those books?"

"Occasionally."

She sighed. "Right, well, it looks like we'll have to really-"

There was a loud smashing noise outside, and one looked at the other in surprise. Rowena made to rise, but then there was a timid knock on the door. "Enter," she said, looking to Helga, brow raised.

She looked back as the door opened. Bellona. "So sorry Miss Rowena," she squeaked, her large orb like eyes looking extra large. There was a tall figure behind her, and Bellona slipped away as the woman came into view. "Eh. So sorry for the ruckus. I'm not too late, am I?"

Rowena stared. The woman was very odd looking in that she had to be at least six foot tall, and had to bend as she came through the door. She was dragging a strange leather case, and the long mane of hair that flowed down her back was a pale shade of blue, but as she hit her head off the door frame it turned a vivid red, before going back to blue. "Sorry," she said again. "I tend to grow a few inches when I'm nervous."

Rowena stared. She was wearing light blue robes, with a long necklace with some kind of clear vial with a purple liquid that sloshed around. The shoes visible were large boots, and there was a pause before Helga slid herself off the desk, smiled brightly and offered her hand. "Helga Hufflepuff."

Her face relaxed into a smile and she shook. "Faye Taylor."

Rowena stood, and held out her own hand. " Professor Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Ah! It'd be you that put out the advertisement, wouldn't it?"

It was impossible to pin down an accent in her voice. It was a pleasant, lilting voice, though with an underlying tinge of humour.  "Er, yes," she said, becoming distracted by the freckles that kept appearing and disappearing off her nose. Her eyes were a dark blue, but seemed to swirl with brown. "You're a metamorphagus," she breathed, fascinated by having never met one before.

Faye looked embarrassed, but nodded. "Yes. Erm, shall I take a seat?"

Rowena was still rather dazed in her own fascination, but Helga took charge and summoned a chair, which Faye sat into. Now she seemed much smaller than she had done, and her robes fit comfortably. "I'm sorry," Rowena said, feeling a smile come onto her face. "I've never met a metamorphagus before. Have you.....have you been like that all your life?"

Not much research had been made into metamorphagi, and Faye said, looking slightly flustered "Yes. Apparently when I was born my hair kept changing colour. There are only two registered in Britain."

"Fascinating."

Helga coughed. "Rowena."

And then to Faye. "My apologies, Miss Taylor, she's a genius, you see, but with very little social etiquette."

"Excuse me," Rowena said incredulously.

"It's no problem," Faye said with a smile. "And call me Faye."

"So," Helga said, taking charge again. "What experience have you had in the field of magical creatures?"

"I've always had an interest in them," she replied. "And I've travelled around South America studying them for the last five years. They're fascinating, I've always thought."

"Defence against the dark arts?"

"I'm experienced in defending oneself against all kinds of creatures, including dementors, hinkypunks and grindylows. Although it is a shame, I think, the way people view these creatures, because they're quite beautiful."

This sounded, almost word for word, like something Godric would say, and Helga and Rowena exchanged a little smile.

"Have you got lodgings in Hogsmeade?" Helga inquired as they stood.

"No, actually, do you know anywhere pleasant?"

Rowena smiled to herself. It looked like they'd found their Professor.

"She's quite, well, odd, isn't she?"

"I like her," Helga replied honestly, as Rowena got ready for bed. "She seems very kind, and quite funny."

"I think Godric would like her," she smiled, began to brush out her hair.

"Here," Helga offered. "I'll do that for you."

Rowena sat back and Helga brushed out her hair for her as she said "Quite....eccentric, is that the word?"

"Mm. Metamorphagi are very rare, Helga. I didn't think there were any in Britain."

"Promise me you won't do anything odd like steal her hair so you can do tests on it."

Rowena laughed in surprise. "What do you take me for?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Salazar has yet to meet her."

"That'll be fun," Rowena smiled, as Helga finished brushing her hair.


	24. Chapter 24

_September, Scotland, 990 AD_  


Salazar had accepted her, if a little wary of her. Once Faye came out of her shell a little, it began increasingly obvious that she was absolutely hilarious. She had large shoes to fill, but Helga never doubted that she wouldn't be perfectly capable of filling them. It was Rowena who brought the students to the castle this year, not Godric, and it was odd to see, although Godric had only done it once. There were more students this year, perhaps about thirty. It was easy to see the ones who had been here last year, as they stood chatting easily, meeting up with friends after the holidays and making their way to their respective tables. The new students stood looking terrified. Helga sat with Helena, beside Salazar and Faye, whose hair was now the pale blue, what she had come to recognise as her nervous colour.

"It'll all be fine," Helga reassured her. "Godric's left some notes, you know. And you seem like you'll be an excellent teacher."

"Mm," she pulled a face. "I'm not sure they'll like me, though."

"Of course they will, won't they Helena?"

Helena had developed a sort of fascination with Faye. She'd never met somebody so colourful before, and often Faye entertained her with changing her facial features or hair, and this she did now by turning her nose into a pig's snout, making Helena giggle. "Faye's funny," she informed Helga.

"Well I don't know about that," Faye said, picking up her goblet. "Funny in the head, maybe."

Just as Helga was about to reply, Rowena began to announce the names, and they lapsed into silence.   


********

 _October, Scotland, 990 AD_  


They settled into the familiar grind of teaching. Faye proved herself to be just as good as Godric, who sent occasional letters from such places as France, Ireland, and odd countries even Rowena had never heard of. On his birthday in early October, they sent him a card Helena had drawn for him, and he sent back his thanks, saying he was having the time of his life, but missing them. The temperatures slipped suddenly, meaning that the castle was swamped in bad colds. Helga tried her best, but really they should have had a proper matron. On the last Saturday of the month, the Great Hall at breakfast was almost empty, as most people were in bed sick. Helena had simply a cough, but was well enough to eat. She then proceeded to give Helga a heart attack by almost choking on her toast, a feat which she was extremely proud of, and then they went back to the cottage to see Rowena.

"I think I'm dying," Rowena said hoarsely, as they entered the room. She was sitting up, and it was almost as if she'd been reading, what Helga had told her not to do as she needed rest.

"You're not dying," Helga said, smiling at her dramatics. "You'll be right as rain tomorrow."

"Mm," Rowena moved over as Helena wriggled into the bed and said proudly "I nearly got chokeded, Mother."

"What?" Rowena said, voice sharp.

"A bit of toast got lodged in her throat," Helga said, fetching medicine. "She nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Faye saved me," Helena told her.

"She hit her back a few times. You should be very careful when you're eating, Helena."

"I was."

"Here," Helga said, pouring some of the potion onto the spoon. "Open your mouth."

She wriggled into Rowena's side. "I don't like it."

"Do you want to get better or not?"

Sulkily, Helena opened her mouth and made a face as she swallowed it.

"Good girl. How do you feel, Rowena?"

"Like I'm dying."

"You should sleep."

"I have enough of sleeping. Come in."

Helga sighed but slid off her shoes and climbed into the bed. "Fey knows how many germs we're picking up."

"Faye knows everything," Helena told her.

"I don't doubt it," Helga replied, smiling.

"She showed me the fairies."

"Did you like the fairies?"

She thought for a moment, scrunching up her nose. "No."

Helga smiled at her. "Oh Helena."

"She's got nice hair, too. I like it when she makes it blue."

Helena coughed, then wriggled further into the blankets. "No," Helga said, smiling as she lifted it up. "You're not going to sleep, miss, or you won't sleep tonight."

"You can't catch me, Mama, 'cause you're too big."

A Helena-shaped lump traveled down the duvet, stopping to giggle, and then cough.

"We'll see about that," Helga said, ducking down herself. Rowena winced. "Helena, your hands are freezing. Stop touching my feet."

Helga caught her around the middle and Helena shrieked with delight as she surfaced from under the blankets. "I think we'd better leave Mother to rest, alright Helena?"

"Right. Can I have a chocolate bun?"

"We can certainly go and ask," she smiled, then fixed the duvet, pushing back Rowena's hair and kissing her warm forehead, taking the book she'd hidden under the covers. "Rest, Rowena. Don't read."

She sighed, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. "Yes Helga."  
  
********

 _January, Scotland, 991 AD_  


There had been no letter from Godric for a while, and Helga was worrying. They got through the first week of school, and it was Saturday, but there was still no letter. "Oh dear, what if something's happened?" She asked anxiously.

"Nothing will have happened," Rowena reassured with a smile. "He's fine."

"But still," she sighed, looking out the window at the rain outside, which for once failed to cheer her up.

She was in a sad mood for the rest of the day, until it was dark and they were about to go to bed when Faye came in, saying someone was walking up from the village with a torch. Helga rose slowly. "From the village?"

"Yes," she said, and later Helga would berate herself for believing her bad lie. She went downstairs, Rowena and Salazar following, and saw the large figure, wrapped up tightly in a cloak. "Who is it?" She asked, nibbling her lip.

"No idea," said Rowena, but she couldn't hide her smile. "Why are you smiling? Who is it? Excuse me!"

The man took down his hood, and she nearly screamed with joy. Godric, his beard and hair grown long, grinning as she threw herself into his arms. "Godric! Godric, you're back!"

"Of course I am," he laughed, as she pulled back, looking to the others. "You all knew."

"Of course," Rowena said, coming forward to hug him. "He thought it'd be a nice surprise."

Godric pulled away from her hug, looking over to Faye. "I don't believe we've ever met," he said pleasantly.

Faye's hair turned visibly red in the light from his burning torch, lying on the ground. "Godric Gryffindor," he said, bowing.

"Faye Taylor. Charmed."

"Charmed."

He put his arm around Helga. "Might we go back to the castle? My throat's burning for a drink."  


"So where've you been?" Rowena asked, smiling at him. They were drinking together now, even Faye, who had tried to leave them alone but they each insisted on her staying.

"India, China, Nepal, you know," he shrugged.

"Your normal, everyday places," she laughed, sipping her firewhisky.

"Right. What's been going on here?"

"Well we hired Faye. She'll be the magical creatures Professor, from now on."

"Thanks," he laughed, but nodded at her. "I see you're a metamorphagus."

"Yes," she downed her drink quickly, and he looked at her in admiration. "I have six brothers, mate. I've learned a thing or two."

There was a cry from the doorway. "Uncle Goooooodrriiiicc!"

Rowena gaped at Helga. The crib had been far too high to climb.

Godric laughed as Helena threw herself onto his lap. "Hello kiddo! I have a present for you! For all of you, actually. Even you, Faye."

"Me?" She asked.

"Yes, hold on-" he picked up his bag from the floor, and reached into it. There was the sound of several objects rolling around, and then he emerged with another, smaller bag. "For Helena, first," he said, opening the bag. "From India."

It was a bracelet of glass beads that shone different rainbow colours in the candlelight. "Thank you!" She cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Mm-hmm. They had fantastic food in India, Helga, this amazing bread that bursts in your mouth, I got you some recipes."

She flushed with delight as he reached back into the bag and pulled out a potted plant. "Now, Helga.  _Mimbulus_   _Mimbletonia_."

"What?" She asked, having never heard of it. It was lumpy, covered in excellent pulsing boils. "It's very rare," Rowena said. "Comes from Assyria."

"Thank you Godric!" Helga said, delighted as always by any kind of new plant.

"Ro-"

For Rowena he had a very fine eagle feather quill that required no ink and never grew old, and she kissed his cheek in thanks.

For Salazar there was a beautiful stone basin, one that Helga mistakenly thought was a cauldron. "No," Godric told her. "It's a pensive. Salazar's always going on about his thoughts. Well now he can view them in the basin."

She was confused. "How?"

He held his wand to his forehead, and withdrew a long silvery thread, which he placed in the basin. They watched in fascination as it swirled, eventually settling on the image of a cobbled street. "That's the memory of how I procured it. If you were to touch it, you would be in the memory."

"In it?" Faye asked. "Living it?"

"You couldn't change it. You would be an observer simply."

"Thank you very much," Salazar murmured, watching as Godric carefully emptied it again.

"Ad for dear Professor Taylor here-" he pulled out a container, and she burst out laughing. "Food pellets?"

"Indeed! Helga told me you kept occamy, and I do know how hard it is to find proper food for them here, excluding insects."

"Very thoughtful," she smiled, and her hair turned vivid pink. "Thank you."


	25. Chapter 25

_April, Scotland, 992 AD_   
  


For Helga's birthday, Rowena took her to the seaside in Wales. She knew how much Helga missed her home country, and she also knew, despite her own fear of water, that Helga loved swimming. "It hasn't been just us for a while," she said, smiling.

They were there for the weekend, staying in a pretty little cottage her father had owned.

"Oh I love it Rowena," she said, kissing her to punctuate every word. "I - love - it."  
  


They sat together on the couch under a blanket, drinking butterbeer and reminiscing. "I can't believe it's been so long that we can actually reminisce."

"Mm. Helga, very odd question coming up."

"Ask away," she smiled.

"Have you ever courted anyone else?"

"No. And I told you that before."

She looked thoughtful. "I thought you might be, you know, pretending or something. Really?"

"Really. I was too....I don't know, homesick. I couldn't stomach the thought. There was a lad, you know, who worked in the same castle as me in Wales."

"He was interested in you?" Rowena asked.

Helga laughed. "He asked me to marry him."

"What did you say?"

"I said no, because I knew that wasn't what I wanted."

"Good."

There was a pause, and Helga felt a smile creep onto her lips. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"No," she said defensively.

"You are. Your jealous face is adorable. All small and jealous looking."

"I am not jealous."

"Right. By the way, you're in no position to judge."

"I courted Henry literally for only three months."

"Still," she sniffed.

"That doesn't mean anything. He kissed like a wet sponge, and his hands were entirely too grabby. Now who's jealous?"

"Not me."

"Right. Jealous, jealous, jealous- ow!" Rowena burst into giggles as Helga tackled her and began to tickle her. "No - stop it, Helga!"

"Only if you say sorry."

"S-sorry!" She wheezed.

Helga nodded, withdrawing. "There you are."

Rowena looked thoughtfully outside at the clear night. "It's been a long time since we stargazed."  
  


"Wouldn't it be lovely," Helga whispered, as they were lying together holding hands, looking up at the stars just as they used to. "If Faye and Godric were together?"

"Faye and Godric?" Rowena asked, laughing.

"What's wrong with it?" Helga said rather defensively.

"Nothing, darling, it's just that Faye has been giving Godric eyes for months. Her eyes turn this beautiful green when she's around him."

"Do they?" Helga asked, aghast.

"Mm. It's quite beautiful. But not as beautiful as yours, of course."

"How lovely," Helga said, feeling the magic that was usually between them, and sighing happily. "We never did fully discover what that was, did we?"

"Magic of love," Rowena said, turning her head and smiling. "It met two people, and....it created."

"I do wonder why it never happened again."

"Yes," Rowena said quietly, and then hesitantly "Would you....like a baby? One of your own, I mean."

Helga's mouth opened in surprise. "Helena _is_ mine."

"I mean....one you could carry."

Helga gave a little sigh. "When I was a little girl," she started. "I used to dream about getting married and having all of these beautiful babies."

"Oh Helga," Rowena whispered. "I'm so sorry I took that away from you."

"Don't be sorry," Helga replied, kissing the top of her head. "You are far, far better than any husband I could ever have, and I wouldn't give Helena for all the babies in the world."

"Anyway," she continued. "What on earth would we call the next one?"

"Godsalrowlga."

"No."

Rowena laughed, and then let go of her hand, sitting up and flicking her wand. "What are you doing?" Helga laughed.

Music began to echo around the beach, beautiful violin music, fast and lively. "Oh," she breathed. "This is the song, isn't it? From the...the Gryffindor ball?"

"Yes," Rowena laughed, her hair blowing around her head in the slight wind, eyes sparkling, skirt billowing behind her, holding out her hand. "Care to dance with me, lady?"

Helga took her hand and they began to dance, skirts and hair blowing in the wind, magic and laughs echoing through the night like bells, and she wished it could never end.  
  


 

The next morning, they woke late, and Helga smiled sleepily at her. "Good morning."

"Morning," she whispered back, a smile coming onto her own face as she sat up, stretching and yawning. The golden light of the sun filtered through the glass doors, shining off the opposite wall. The sound of the waves sucking gently in and out could be heard and Helga asked "Do you want to go swimming?"

A pit opened up in the bottom of her stomach. "Swimming?"

"Yes!" Helga scrambled to her feet and grabbed her robe, shrugging it on. "It'll be lovely, it's a perfect day."

Rowena nibbled her lip. She'd been terrified of swimming since she had been six years old, since Roderick had held her down in the fountain on one of his rare visits. But Helga's excitement was infectious and so she smiled and said "I'll just stay on the rock."

"Why?" Helga asked, opening the door, salty morning air coming through, squinting slightly in the sunlight.

"I don't swim."

"What! Why not?"

"I'm scared of water," she said truthfully, standing, putting on her own robe.

Helga's smile returned. "Why? I can teach you to swim, if you like."

Once they got to the shoreline, when soft sand squished under their feet, Helga stripped to her underwear and dived into the water from the rock. Rowena had a momentary panic as she disappeared, but then she surfaced, pushing wet hair back from her forehead.  "Come on, Ro!" She called.

Rowena exhaled and stepped forward, down the sloped end of the rock. Cold water swirled around her ankles, shocking her, and making her think that maybe she couldn't do this after all. "I can't," she said shakily, as Helga swam closer to her rock, smiling. "Of course you can. Here, I'll help you," she reached for her hand.

"Pull me in," she said impulsively. "Just get it over with."

"Are you ready?"

She nodded, and then she heard the slap of water, felt it submerge her and fill her lungs, panicking. But then she felt Helga's hand, clasped tightly in her own, and she surfaced, blinking water out of her eyes.

She laughed with sheer shock, and hugged her tightly, both terrified and exhilarated.

Helga laughed, and then pulled away, gently kicking to stay afloat. The water rocked gently, salt stinging her lips. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said, looking around her at the water that surrounded them, and then beginning to cry. "What's wrong?" Helga asked, smile faded, looking concerned. She shook her head. "Something - something silly. I just - I'm swimming, I'm actually swimming."

"Why are you so afraid of it?" Helga asked.

"Roderick," she answered. "He held me down in the fountain when I was six, for so long I thought I'd die."

"Oh Rowena," she whispered, and then began to cry herself. "I'm sorry," she managed. "I'm thinking of my parents. My father was a fisherman. We practically grew up in the sea."

"Helga," Rowena whispered, reaching and tracing the path of her tears with long fingers. "If it wasn't for you I'd have drowned long ago."

"You put me back together," she replied. "I was such a mess, and so confused, so lonely, and you helped me-"

She stopped, took her wet face in her hands and kissed her so hard Rowena went breathless. "I love you."

"Me too," she whispered, and then the romantic moment was interrupted by her stomach rumbling, and Helga laughed through her tears. "Let's get -"

However, she didn't get to finish her sentence, as a large wave came, submerging them in salty water. Rowena spluttered, and Helga blinked in shock, both of them laughing as they came up. "Oh dear," Helga managed. "I was going to say, let's get some breakfast."

"Let's."  
  


 

"I-" Rowena's voice stopped, and the smile slid off her face. She seemed to sway for a moment, before she fell backwards, the chair tipping over, the cup she was holding falling and smashing on the floor. Brown liquid spread across the tiles, powdery shards bursting in all directions. "Rowena!" Helga said in panic, rising and rushing to her side. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly parted. The end of her dark braid dipped into the tea on the ground, her fingers curled.

The veins in her pale wrist were obvious, and Helga pressed shaking fingers to them. Her wrist was cool, her heartbeat steady, and then, just as quickly as she had fallen, her eyes flickered open. They were darker than Helga had ever seen them, and for a minute she was truly frightened. "Rowena? Rowena, please-"

When Rowena spoke, her voice was oddly hoarse, and the words in a language she recognised as Gaelic, although she could not understand the words. They seemed to blur together, and she couldn't distinguish them.

"Rowena!"

"Beware....the serpent's familiar-"

She was now talking in rapid fire English, and Helga, devoid of what else to do, pointed her wand and yelled "Aquamenti!" so forcefully that freezing cold water blasted out of her wand, straight into Rowena's face. Her rapid words ceased, and she spluttered. She stopped the water, hand shaking, and rose a hand to her mouth as Rowena coughed. Her hair was dripping, and she blinked water out of her eyes, which were the normal colour again. "H-Helga?"

Helga nearly sobbed with relief at her familiar voice. As it stood, she drew her into a tight hug, then released her. Rowena looked shocked, confused and dazed, all at once, looking down at her wet front. "What happened?"

"You-you fell," Helga managed. "Backwards. And then you started speaking Gaelic- something about a snake's familiar-"

"A snake?" She said dazedly, raising her hand to the back of her head and wincing.

"Let me-" Helga said, then pushed back her hair to see bruised flesh. "Episkey," she whispered, and the bruises faded.

Rowena looked around at the broken china. One look, and they jumped back together, as perfectly as if they had never been broken. She drew a rattled breath. "Rowena?" Helga asked again, desperate for an explanation. Rowena looked at the kitchen, at the chair that was lying on its side. "Prophecy....." she whispered.

"Ro? Rowena, what's happening?"

Helga blinked. "It was a prophecy, just then, wasn't it?"

She turned so quickly that droplets of water flew from her hair, then went to the bedroom, waved her wand and clothes shoved themselves into the trunk. Helga followed her. "I'm not as clever as you, Rowena, but I'm not stupid. You still have those dreams, don't you?"

She hesitated, then said "Yes."

Helga sounded hurt. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't I see it?"

_Because I've become better at hiding it._

Rowena pointed her wand and the latches on the trunk snapped shut. She grasped it in her hands, grabbed a shocked Helga, and disapparted.


	26. Chapter 26

When the world righted itself, Helga staggered away from her tight grip to find herself standing behind the greenhouses. "What in fey's name-" she managed.

Rowena was already walking away. "Rowena!"

Many students were gawking at the fact that two of their professors had just appeared in their midst. They were also gawking at the fact that Rowena was sopping wet, and her nostrils were flared as she practically stormed into the castle, while Helga followed, biting her lip. Godric stopped her as she passed. "What's wrong?"

She dithered. "Oh Godric - I think she made a prophecy-"

He stared after Rowena, then said "Get your cloak. We're making a trip."  
  


They followed Godric through the forest, and Rowena kicked angrily at a vine that tried to snake its way around her foot. Bad humour was practically radiating off her. Helga tried to catch her eye, but she stared determinedly ahead, following Godric before they stopped in a clearing as though waiting for something. "What is it?" Helga whispered.

There was a rustling noise, and a centaur came out of the trees. He had icy blue eyes, curly black hair and seemed quite young. "Godric Gryffindor," he said evenly. He looked to Rowena and Helga. "And guests."

He looked curiously at Rowena. "This one has the sight."

"I have a name, too," she said sulkily. Helga put a warning hand on her shoulder. He looked amused as he turned back to Godric.

"Marius. Have you seen what she has?" Godric asked him.

He looked up at the morning sky. "The sky is bright," he observed. "Almost too much so."

Helga waited, but he didn't say anything more. Godric seemed used to this.

He lifted his right arm and gestured to something she couldn't see. "Dark is coming. Soon. The vision the human had this morning was the first of thrice."

Godric nodded slowly. Marius bowed his head. "That is our debt repaid, Godric Gryffindor."

He melted back into the trees, and Rowena sighed.  
  


"Helga," Rowena whispered, leaning over her, her hair tickling her cheek. "Helga, are you asleep?"

"No," she said flatly. Behind Rowena, she could see the dancing flame of the candle, obviously relit as Rowena dressed for bed.

Rowena sighed. "I'm sorry, Helga."

"You didn't say anything. You wouldn't explain. You just grabbed me, and then completely ignored me in the forest."

"I know. Helga, I....I was in shock. What I saw.....it wasn't very nice."

The ice melted away. "Rowena," she whispered. "What's coming?"

Rowena hesitated. "I cannot tell you that, Helga, and I'm sorry for it."

"First of thrice. Does that mean you'll have that horrible vision twice more?"

"It sounds like it," Rowena sighed.

********

_June, Scotland, 99_ _2_ _AD_   
  


Helga had drifted to sleep, and Rowena lay looking at her. Her hand was under her cheek, and her blonde curls tumbled down her back, startlingly bright against the cotton of her nightgown. She wouldn't wear silk, not even now when she could afford it. She said it was better to remember where she had come from. She gave a little sigh, and wriggled in her sleep, nestling her head against Rowena's shoulder. She hadn't told her, hadn't told anyone, and how could she? How could she tell them she'd seen a day when one of them would leave for good, a day when Hogwarts would burn and she saw herself running with Helena, running from someone, through the halls? She nibbled the inside of her cheek without noticing what she was doing, sitting up and looking at the dark room. She, and all of them, really, had poured every last bit of themselves into Hogwarts, used every last reservoir of magic. Hogwarts was her home, it had been for the last six years, and it was more of a home than the cold and lonely Ravenclaw Manor had ever been. It upset her to think of it destroyed, upset her so much she could barely breathe. Air. She needed air. She slid out of bed, careful not to disrupt Helga, who was a light sleeper, and slid on her robe, forgetting her shoes and only remembering once out on the cold stone path. Oh well. Magic would protect her. Out here, she could feel the magic of Hogwarts pulsing, and she wanted to cry as she remembered what she'd seen. She couldn't let that happen, she couldn't ever let that happen.

Exhaling, she sat on the bench, watching several chittering fairies who were paddling in the birdbath, bright lights in the dark. "Terribly vain creatures, fairies," said a voice, and she almost jumped out of her skin before scowling. "Godric!"

He laughed, coming out of the shadow. He was clearly wearing his nightclothes under his brown cloak, and a smirk rose to his lips as he saw her silk nightdress. "Love the fashion."

"Oh shut up, Godric. Like you're much better."

"At least I remembered shoes, peasant," he replied, sitting on the bench with a creak. There was an odd red smudge on his collar, rather like, she thought with a smirk, the lipstick Faye wore.

"At least I remember I'm an adult and not actually a teenager anymore."

"Touchè."

They sat for a while, watching the fairies until he said "Couldn't sleep?"

"No," she sighed, crossing her arms and watching as one of the fairies seemed to get into a fight with another over a leaf. "You?"

"Same."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a flask, and she rolled her eyes. "Really, Godric, is it any wonder Helga worries about you being an alcoholic?"

"Oh rubbish," he said dismissively, taking a swig and then offering it to her. She shook her head. "Not after you've had your lips all over it."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, and he wiped it with his sleeve. "Will this do for mildly?"

"Hmm," she said, eyeing him carefully and reaching for it. "It'll have to."

She sipped it slowly, then said "So what brings you out on a fine night such as this?"

She knew him well enough to spot when he was lying; a smirk rose to her lips as his cheeks flushed. "Couldn't sleep, I told you."

"Right. And this would have nothing to do with the fact that I'm sure Faye couldn't sleep either?"

"A friendly chat between friends."

"And that's why you have lipstick on your collar."

He looked at her in amazement. "You miss very little, do you?"

"Mm. So do tell, Godric, how long this illicit affair has been going on for."

"It's hardly _illicit_."

"One would certainly think so, what with the sneaking around like schoolchildren."

He raised an eyebrow. "What about you and Helga?"

"That's different, and you know it is," she said, sipping from his flask and grimacing. "Goodness, that's strong."

"Bought it off some goblins in Romania," he said proudly.

"Right. Back to yourself and Faye, if you would."

He sighed and rubbed his beard with his hand. "It's Salazar, really, I think."

"Salazar? What's wrong with Salazar?"

"Well he already feels a bit, well, sour, because of you and Helga-"

"Does he?" She asked in amazement. She didn't think she'd ever seen anything like that. But then again, Salazar was good at hiding things, and Rowena noticed little when Helga was around.

"I think so. My point being that it would make him feel more, well....."

"Listen, Godric," she said, handing him back his flask. "This is your happiness, not Salazar's. If he wants to be a sour old bastard, don't let it affect your life."

"Well," he sighed. "That's certainly one way of looking at it."

There was a comfortable pause wherein they watched the fairies a little more, and Rowena said "It's more than just, well, sex, isn't it?"

"Rowena! If Helga were here, she'd wring your neck."

"Well she isn't," Rowena said primly. "And so I can say things that are not quite suited to her delicate ears. Anyhow. You didn't answer my question."

Godric sighed, and then a small smile came onto his face as he looked down the path. "I think so," he said, rather softly, smiling like a fool. "I do think it's more than just that side of things."

"Well there you go."

"Rowena, how did you know Helga was, you know, the one?"

Now it was her turn to smile like a fool. "Oh, it was just a feeling, I suppose. I mean, when we're together, we can talk for hours about the most trivial things. Everything about her like her smile, and her laugh, and the way she says my name makes me smile. She's so sweet and kind and she just....yes," she sighed happily, looking up at the stars, until she remembered what they could be facing in the future, and the smile slipped slowly off her face. If Godric noticed, he didn't say anything. "I think it's like that with Faye and I," he said, exhaling happily. "I mean, we've only known each other for five months, but she's just.....amazing. I really think I love her, although I haven't told her yet."

"Tell her," Rowena said, looking over at him. "Godric, you go straight to her right now and tell her you love her and kiss her so hard she sees stars."

He looked slightly shocked. "Rowena?"

"We don't know what's coming," she said quietly, looking up at the stars, which were oddly bright. "So just....just live, and be happy."

"I think the brandy might have gone to your head, Rowena," he said, grinning.

"Perhaps," she sighed, as he stood, then stood herself.

"Goodnight, Godric. And listen to me, because I'm telling you I will literally kill you if you don't tell them tomorrow. I think they'll like it. Especially Helga, she's been misty eyed about it for months."  
  


When she got back to the cottage, Helga was awake, rubbing her eyes sleepily and yawning as she came through the door. "Ro? Were you outside?"

"Yes," she breathed, taking off her robe and sliding into bed. "You're freezing," Helga complained, but let her cuddle close to her. "I love you, Helga," she whispered, kissing her shoulder. Helga laughed sleepily. "What's that for?"

"Because I love you," she hummed happily. "Goodnight, darling Helga."


	27. Chapter 27

Helga looked like she'd frozen into a statue. "Helga," Rowena said, waving her hand in front of her face. "Oh dear," Salazar said drily. "I rather think you broke her."

Faye and Godric were looking at her warily, and then she squealed loudly and caught them both in a massive hug. "I knew it, I knew it, didn't I say that would be so lovely, Rowena, didn't I?" she sang, clutching them.

"She did. She wouldn't shut up about it for months."

Faye's eyes were that dark green again, and Rowena smirked at Helga.

"Alright," Faye said, rather pink in the face. "Well.....you don't mind, do you?"

"Why would we mind?" Rowena asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Because....well, because you four have been friends for a long time, and I would kind of feel like I was intruding."

"Don't be ridiculous," Helga laughed.

 

"Rowena," Helga whispered in the dark. "Rowena, does this mean we'll have to tell Faye about us?"

Rowena gave a little sigh. "I think so."

"I don't want to hurt Godric," she whispered. "What if she leaves over it?"

Rowena reached for her hand and squeezed. "I don't think she will."

"But what if she does?"

"I imagine we'll have to take the chance, selfish as it sounds."

******** 

 _July_ , _Scotland_ , _992_ _AD_

 

"Faye, can we talk to you for a moment?" Rowena asked evenly, nervously rubbing the ring on her finger. Faye looked up from packing her trunk and smiled. "Of course."

The students had left, and the halls were silent apart from their footsteps as they walked to the staff room. "Rowena?"

Rowena turned to see that Faye's hair was slowly turning blue. "I'm not.....this isn't about my job, is it?"

A surprised and shocked laugh escaped her lips. "Of course not. It's something else entirely."

Brown began to leak back into her hair as if someone had thrown paint over her, and she smiled with relief. "Oh thank goodness."

Godric, Helga and Salazar were sitting together solemnly, and Faye gave a shaky laugh. "Honestly, you're scaring me. What is it?"

"Sit down," Salazar said gravely.

"Is someone dead?"

"No. Now you're part of the group, Faye, we have to tell you something kind of serious."

She nodded her head slowly. "Is someone dying?"

"No! Why do you keep thinking that?" Godric asked.

"Because you have this look on your face like somebody's died. Come on, then, tell me."

"Well.....you know how myself and Rowena are married," Salazar said slowly, taking charge.

She nodded.

"We're not."

She paused. "What do you mean you're not? You have a child, don't you?"

A look came on her face then. "Oh. Is that why you're pretending to be married?"

Rowena felt herself flush. "What? No! The point is, well....." she coughed, and then reached for Helga's hand, who clasped it gratefully, her palm slightly sweaty. Faye stared.

"Surprise."

Faye blinked, then burst into laughter. "Is that all?"

"What do you mean, is that all?" Helga asked, pale faced.

"I thought you were going to tell me something serious! I mean....Helena!" She started laughing again. "Oh goodness, I'm sorry - Godric, remember I said how Helena looked a bit like Helga?"

"Yes," he said, a small smile coming onto his face. "I had to force myself not to laugh."

"Oh ladies," she sighed, still smiling. "You really scared me there."

She stood, then swooped down and kissed both of their cheeks. "I don't care, of course I don't. But it might be best to keep this from the parents."

Rowena, dazed, raised a hand to the wet spot on her cheek, then looked at Helga, who mouthed "What?"

"Does this affect, you know, us?" Godric asked.

"Not unless you want to confess to joining in on occasion."

Helga turned pure red, and Rowena and Godric burst into laughter as Salazar spluttered.

"Really!" He managed.

"Oh look, Salazar's getting all embarrassed!" Godric crowed.

"I'm not embarrassed," he said stiffly. A slight flush was creeping across his pale cheeks. "I just don't think that's appropriate."

"What, did you think myself and Helga just held hands?" Rowena asked, tears gathering in her eyes from laughter.

Helga swatted at her arm, still furiously red faced. "Shut up now, Ro, before I curse you."

"Oh, love, your innocence is admirable."

"I have had enough of this conversation," Salazar announced, rising and leaving the room as Faye and Rowena burst into more giggles.

********

 _August_ , _Scotland_ _992_ _AD_

 

Student numbers had risen even more, meaning that there were more classes, meaning that once again they needed to find a new teacher, this time for Astronomy, as Salazar flatly said that he would have enough issue with them in Potions.

It didn't take long for them to find a teacher, this time Erasmus, a man of about thirty years old. His wife Katherine came with him too, and they were delighted to see that she was a healer, and therefore a perfect matron. Rowena was delighted, but Helga was nervous, as this meant two more people to deceive, which hurt her as she hated lying. "Darling, it's not like we could avoid it," Rowena said, one day in late August when the sun was splitting the stones outside, and Faye had taken Helena out for a walk.

"I know," Helga sighed, sitting on her desk, looking down at the floor. "It's just....it's bloody awful. I hate it."

"I know," Rowena agreed, then reached up and tucked a loose blonde curl behind her ear. "It's be alright, Helga my love. Don't worry."

She gave a small smile. "I'm not. I'm simply.....fed up."

"I know. But it's better this way, isn't it, than the alternative?"

"Mm," Helga said quietly, and then her old smile was back as she said "I do wonder sometimes what would have happened if I never came here, to Hogsmeade."

"You might still be a maid. Or you might be married, and have all these beautiful babies."

"And you?"

She thought for a moment. "I'd be locked in some library somewhere, or perhaps dead."

"Rowena, don't be negative."

"Yes," she looked out the window at the sunlight shining off the lake. "Helga, if I'm honest, I was this close to it when I met you."

"Close to what?" Helga asked, puzzled.

"Dying. I was going to hang, if Hogwarts didn't work out."

Helga had turned chalk white. "Rowena," she whispered. "Are you serious?"

"Mm," she said quietly.

There was a silence, during which the only sounds were several birds chirping across the windowsill, hunting for food. Helga reached for her hand on the desk, and curled her warm fingers around Rowena's slender, pale ones. "Why did you feel like that?"

"Because everything was so bland and boring and pathetic, and  there was all these broken pieces of my life, then my father was pressuring me to marry, and I just......" she sighed, rubbing her neck with her free hand, the bracelet she was wearing jangling.

"And then I met you, Helga, and it was like everything just made sense of all a sudden, and all the pieces fit together."

"Have you felt like that, ever since?" Helga asked slowly. "I mean.....like you wanted to die?"

"A few times," she admitted, then looked back at her, at her beautiful face, her wide brown eyes that were deep with love and pain. Her blonde curls were spilling over her shoulders, and Rowena found herself wondering, yet again, how somebody so beautiful could ever want her. "You can tell me," she whispered, finally. "I want to help you. I never want you to ever feel like that again."

Rowena rubbed her hand, and smiled at her. "I'm fine, Helga. You made me better."

They stayed like that, for a few moments, just looking at each other, before they heard the sounds of Helena laughing outside, coming up the path with Faye.


	28. Chapter 28

_September, Scotland, 992 AD_

 

Helga's niece Anna, Catrin's sister, came to Hogwarts this year. She was a small girl with vivid red hair, and she was sorted into Ravenclaw. Helga sent the occasional letter to Gwyneth, but as she couldn't read very well, nor barely write, contact was slim, which upset her, but she understood.

 

"I want to show you something," Helga whispered in her ear, her breath warm.

Rowena smirked, looking up from her book. "Do you know how that sounds?"

"Oh, get away with you!" She said, pulling back and slapping at her arm. "Clean your mind. Something innocent."

"Alright then," she smiled. "Lead the way."

She lead her through a door pretending to be wall, up a flight of stairs, and through a tapestry. "Here," she said, stopping in front of a polished door Rowena was sure she had never seen before, despite knowing the castle like the back of her hand. She gave Helga a puzzled look as she opened the door and ushered her inside.

A sharp exhalation escaped her lips as she closed the door behind her. Sunlight poured into the large room, from the glass wall that looked out on a large garden of beautiful flowers, despite it being both October and dark in reality. Countless shelves of books lined the walls, two comfortable armchairs facing the beautiful window, a fireplace between them. She moved forward slowly, brushing her fingers along the spines of the books. She had never seen so many in her life, not even in her library downstairs, or her library at Ravenclaw manor, which had been taken from her. Shelf after shelf stretched on, and from the golden writing on their spines she saw that they were books of every genre, herbology and charms, jinxes and potions, poetry and mythology. She itched to dig into them at once.

Helga was standing with a smile on her face, watching her. "I knew you'd like it."

"You....you made this room," she breathed, turning. "What is it?"

Helga bit her lip, eyes sparkling. "I call it the Room of Requirement. Whatever you want it for, it suits your needs."

"Just like you," Rowena said, a smile coming onto her lips. She thought for a moment, and then noticed a desk, with a pot of ink and a quill lying on its side, none of which had been there previously.

"It doesn't do food," Helga said. "For some reason. But that's the only thing it doesn't do."

"It's one of the exceptions to the laws of transfiguration," Rowena reminded her.

She smiled. "Quite. It's not much-"

"Helga, stop selling yourself short," she said gently. "This is amazing. Your charmwork is impeccable."

Helga flushed at the praise, but not quite as strongly as she would have before. She was obviously becoming somewhat used to compliments. "It's beautiful," Rowena whispered, as Helga kissed her. "I mean it."

Helga kissed her neck, and she giggled. "Stop kissing me, you're distracting me."

"Good."

********

_October, Scotland, 992 AD_

 

The dungeon office was dim, lit only by the candles on the stone walls. There was a strange smell in the air, but pleasant, almost like a mixture of Helena's shampoo and Helga's perfume, with just a tiny hint of the musty scent of old books. "Brewing amortenia, I see," Rowena said, coming into sight of the glittering liquid in the cauldron. "Purely for academic reasons, I hope."

She remembered, as a girl, brewing it with her tutor and smelling books, fresh parchment and ink, the reassuring smell of her library, the place where she had always been safe. It was nice to know it had changed.

He gave her a withering look, stoppering a bottle of the stuff, putting it on a shelf behind the desk. Salazar's potions were organised neatly, little labels on each one, with the name in his careful print, facing forward. His desk, too, was stacked neatly, though from where she stood she could see what looked like a diagram of a large snake - perhaps something to do with his house emblem. He paused. "What does it smell like to you, just as a matter of interest?"

"Books," she said, inhaling the smell. "Helena's baby shampoo. Helga's perfume."

"Oh," he said simply, and she had to ask curiously "Why?"

He looked as though deliberating telling her. "I don't smell anything."

"Anything?" She asked, surprised. He closed the cabinet before answering, turning.

On his desk was his pensive, and she could see glittering liquid from where she stood, a flash of red too quick to register, something that twisted, before his voice tore her attention away. "Nothing."

She had come down, just as she was passing, to remind him of the Hallow's Eve feast, as he often got lost in his potions as she did in her books. But now, she was curious.

"Nothing at all?"

"No," he said again. "I never have."

This was very odd. Even Helena, who had smelled it once before, had said she could smell flowers. "Have you ever been in love?" She asked. Discussing feelings with Salazar was always uncomfortable.

"No."

"Have you ever even kissed anyone?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" He asked irritably, settling himself in the chair behind his desk. She sat slowly on the opposite one. He answered after a minute.

"No. And I have no desire to."

She stared at him for a few moments, stumped, as he flicked through some papers. "Is that all?" He asked, his grey eyes looking at her over them.

She remembered dinner suddenly. "Oh, it's dinner now, if you want to come up."

"I'll ask Mimsy to take a tray down here."

"Alright," she said carefully, sensing that something she had said had annoyed him.

 

Godric sat beside Helga, in the break between classes when only the three of them - Helga, Rowena and Godric - were in the staffroom. "I want to show you something, hold on-"

He rummaged around in his pocket, until he found a little red box and withdrew it. Rowena nudged Helga with her elbow, sure of what was coming as he opened it.

Helga's eyes went as round as saucers. In the box was a gold ring, embedded with rubies.

"Godric, Godric, GODRIC-" she squealed, batting at his arm with her hand.

"You're proposing?" Rowena asked, examining the ring.

"Yes. I mean, thinking about it. It's not too soon, is it?"

"Not at all," she said dismissively. "My parents met on Thursday and married on the Saturday."

He laughed, then said "Salazar said it was too soon."

"You told Salazar?" She asked, pausing.

"Mm, last week."

"Oh," she said, understanding what had been wrong with him. "Well, when are you going to propose to her?"

"I was thinking I'd wait until her birthday in December."

Helga ran her fingers over the ring, and said "Ooh, Godric, I'm so excited! If you propose in December, when will the wedding be?"

"Steady on," he said to her. "She might not even say yes."

"Of course she'll say yes," she said happily. "She adores you."

"Now Rowena, Helga," he said, settling himself in the armchair. "I need your help. I need to do something romantic."

They exchanged a smile. "Well," Helga said, settling her hands on her lap. "Light some candles."

"Cook her a meal."

"Give her a massage."

"Get some wine in."

"Pull out her chair for her?" He suggested.

"Don't pull out her chair for her. I don't like being treated like an imbecile, I doubt she's much different."

"Right," Godric said, his face thoughtful.

"Fireworks...."

"Roses...."

They looked at each other and smiled.

"And that should be enough."

"Right," he said, pursing his lips.

********

_December, Scotland, 992 AD_

 

Rowena had a headache. She'd had a bad night's sleep, plagued with shadowy figures and bad dreams, and now Helena was refusing to eat her dinner. Helga might have been able to convince her, but she was doing remedial charms with some of the third years. Helena ate dinner separately, as they would have it at the castle while she was in Hogsmeade.

"Helena," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Please."

Helena shook her head, crossing her small arms and looking down at her mashed potatoes and vegetables. "I don't like it."

"You liked it well enough yesterday. There's nothing else."

Helena scowled, and then there was a loud crack before the plate went flying at the wall, potato and carrot spattering across the paint, the plate shattering and falling into pieces. Rowena was so shocked that she burst into tears, everything becoming too much for her. Helena suddenly looked very frightened. "Mother?"

She didn't reply, laying her head on her arms. There was the sound of Helena sliding off her chair and then warm breath on her face as she kissed her cheek.

"Why are you kissing my cheek?" Rowena managed, tears streaming down her face, raising her head.

"Because that's what Mama does when I'm sad."

"Oh," she said, and sobbed harder.

There was a pause. "I'm sorry for not eating dinner."

"I'm sorry too, Helena."

"I'm going to get Mama."

Before Rowena could protest, she heard her running out of the cottage, small feet hitting the path.

 

Helga had just finished with the third years, and was putting away her notes when Helena ran into the classroom. "Helena?" She said, straightening, smiling at her. "Where's Mother?"

She looked rather worried, and out of breath, and her smile slipped. "What's wrong?"

"Mother's crying," Helena informed her. "And she's lying on the table."

"What?" She asked, confused and concerned. The most ridiculous image of Rowena, lying face down on the table and weeping was in her head.

Helena started to cry, octaves going up until the end of the sentence was a wail. "I made her cry, Mama, because I wouldn't eat my dinnnnneeeerr!"

"Oh Helena-" Helga scooped her up in her arms and then quickly went down the stairs, kissing the top of her head. Helena was still crying, and she made her way to the cottage, where Rowena was sitting with her head in her hands. "Rowena?" She asked, worried. There was potato spattered across the wall, shards of ceramic plate on the wooden floor.

Rowena looked up, her eyes red, face pale. "Oh Helena, you didn't need to get Mama."

"She thinks you're crying because she wouldn't eat her dinner," Helga said, and Rowena's mouth opened in surprise. "Of course not, Helena."

"But you are!" Helena sobbed, taking her arms from around Helga's neck to rub at her eyes. "Because magic throwed my plate at the wall."

Rowena laughed through her tears, and held her arms out as Helga placed Helena on her lap. "Oh Helena," she said gently. "I'm not crying because of you."

Helena's sobbing slowed, and she sniffed, her cheeks wet with tears. "Then why are you crying?"

"I'm just tired," Rowena whispered. "And I have a headache."

"So you're not angry at me?"

"Not at all, silly Helena," she kissed her forehead. "Now, do you want to go and find Godric?"

"Yes," she slid off her lap, sniffed, and said "I need to blow my nose."

"Here," Helga smiled, holding out a handkerchief, and after she was finished she left.

Rowena sighed and wiped her cheeks, and Helga waved her wand as the plate and mess on the wall disappeared. "Well there's her sign of magic," she said quietly. They'd been wondering when it would show up, aside from when she had escaped her crib.

"Are you alright, Rowena?"

"Yes," she sniffed. "Perfectly fine."

Helga gave her a look. "Rowena."

There was a pause. "No."

She sighed and then sat on the chair beside her. "Is it your vision?"

Rowena gave a little snort. "You speak of it as though it's holy gospel, Helga. They're just dreams."

"I see how they affect you. It's horrible. Why do you have this?"

"It runs in the family or something. My maternal grandmother had it, I believe."

"Not your mother?"

She gave a little shrug. "I don't think so. It skips generations, sometimes. I've researched it. There's no way of stopping it. It's both a gift and a curse."

Helga sighed, and laid her head on her shoulder, looking down at their hands.

"Please don't worry," Rowena said, after a minute.

"I can't help but worry."

She kissed the top of her head and whispered "Helga, I'm scared."

"Of what?" She asked.

"I don't know. Everything. Something bad is going to happen, and now I'm worrying you, and that worries me."

"Oh darling, everything's going to be fine, I promise."


	29. Chapter 29

Faye and Godric were both in the staff room when Rowena and Helga entered, and they exchanged a look. Katherine was sitting laughing with Faye and Godric, who looked very cosy, cuddled up together, and so Rowena winked at Helga. "Have you got something to tell us?" She asked innocently, sitting on the opposite chair, waving her wand so the tin kettle poured two cups of tea, one sliding across to Helga after the milk and sugar added themselves, and the spoon stirred before neatly sliding back onto the tray. "You knew then," Faye smiled and held up her hand, the rubies glinting in the candlelight.

"Of course we did," Rowena said, sipping her tea. "You didn't think he could do all of that on his own?"

"What, set fire to your robes?" She inquired, and Rowena burst into laughter as Helga put her hand to her mouth. "You didn't, did you?" She asked Godric.

"I did," he admitted. "I didn't notice, either."

"Yes," Faye said, kissing his cheek in a very lovey dovey display that they usually didn't partake in.

Her nose lengthened, her hair shot back to her skull and turned black, her eyes a cool grey, the exact double of Salazar, were it not for her clothes. It looked extraordinarily odd, Godric with his arm around Salazar. He went to kiss her cheek in return, and then gave a yell of shock, scrambling backwards as Rowena, Katherine and Faye burst into laughter, and even Helga, who would feel quite bad for such a thing, laughed.

"She keeps doing that," Godric said, calming down as she returned to normal. "And it always bloody gets me."

"Don't do it in front of Salazar," Helga managed through her laughter. "Or he'll kill you."

"Have you got a date for the wedding?" Katherine asked, calming herself.

"We were thinking next summer, weren't we?"

"Yes," Faye agreed. "July or thereabouts."

"Good luck in married life. Sometimes I want to kill Erasmus. You'll know what I'm talking about, right Rowena?"

Rowena sipped her tea. "Yes. Especially when he says extraordinarily stupid things."

Godric steered the conversation away quickly, and Helga cleared her threat and put down her cup. As far as Katherine, Erasmus and the students were concerned, Salazar and Rowena had an odd marriage in that they didn't share a cottage. However, Rowena knew they put this down to Salazar's odd personality and annoyance of people in his working space.

If anyone thought it odd that Helga was seen leaving her cottage far more frequently than her own, it was never said. Helena calling her Mama went unnoticed, a childish habit, they told anyone who questioned it. But, Rowena suddenly thought, rather morosely, Faye and Godric getting married made her feel quite.....she didn't know. On the one hand, of course, she was delighted for them, but on her other, selfish side, she wanted to know why they could never have that, and why they could never be recognised as a proper family, although she knew full well the reason. Helga looked up from the conversation, smiling, and met her eyes. Are you alright?

Fine, she answered, anything but.

Katherine said something to Helga, and she laughed and turned back, her hand brushing against Rowena's, which was lying between them, a tiny little gesture of support. Godric and Faye, him with his arm around her, she kissing his cheek, never having to worry....

Rowena suddenly felt very short of air. "Excuse me," she murmured, rising.

Helga looked up, surprised. "Where are you going?"

"I don't feel well," she said quickly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I'm going for a walk."

"I'll come with you-" she said, half rising.

"It's alright. I'm fine."

******** 

_January, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Rowena kept insisting to Helga that she was fine, but Helga knew her well enough to know she was lying. She picked at her food and slept little, buried herself further in her books and Helga was miserable as she could find no way to help her. The centaur Marius's words rang true one day in late January, as Rowena, Salazar and Helga were sitting in the library, the former two playing chess, the latter correcting essays. Rowena's face went rather blank, suddenly, like it had that day in April, and Helga somehow knew what was going to happen before it did. "Rowena?" Salazar asked impatiently. This time, there were no words in any language Helga recognised, just a torrent of French. Salazar's face turned as pale as chalk, seemingly understanding. "Rowena? Rowena!"

She slumped as though asleep, and then her eyes opened slowly and she yawned. "Oh dear, did I fall asleep?"

She noticed the two shocked faces looking at her. "What is it?"

"Again," Helga managed. "You made a prophecy again."

Something washed over her face. "I don't remember it...." She said, almost to herself, and then "What did I say?"

"It was in French," she said, examining her face closely for signs of anything off.

"Animals," Salazar supplied. "You said something about a snake, and a lion."

"You and Godric," Helga whispered.

"It seems so."

His face was impossible to read.

 

"Rowena, why do you always keep these things from me? I'm not a child!"

Helga was upset, and though she rarely raised her voice, she was doing it now. She forced herself to lower it, not wanting to wake Helena.

"You can't...." Rowena rubbed at her forehead. "You can't understand, Helga. Just stay out of it, please."

"Why does Salazar deserve to know and not me? What's happening? What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? Why won't you answer any of my questions?"

"Helga, please-"

"No!" She was crying now, stupidly, and she managed "Don't you trust me with these things?"

"It's not a question of trusting you-"

"Then be honest with me," she whispered, raising her hands to hold her face in them. "Please. Just be honest."

Rowena sighed, something that looked like tears glittering in her eyes. She took Helga's hands and lowered them from her face, holding them in her own. "It's Salazar," she whispered.

"Salazar?" She asked, not understanding.

"He's the cause of it all, Helga, you see? The snake's familiar. He's a parseltongue, remember?"

Helga felt her mouth open in surprise, realising she was right, and then every awful thing she thought Rowena must have seen....

"What do you mean, the cause of it all?" She whispered.

"It's him, Helga, it has to be. When I saw the castle....and the lion and the snake, the death, Helga, I could feel it, feel it in the air like this black cloud but I couldn't help anyone, and it was him, I was sure-"

She was crying herself now, and Helga let go of her hands to envelop her in a hug, as she sobbed on her shoulder, sitting shakily down on the couch. "He wouldn't do anything like that," she whispered. "He would never."

"The centaurs," she said almost fiercely. "I saw them, and I saw this - this boy, but it wasn't Salazar this time, it was-"

She broke off. "Evil, Helga, evil is coming, more than once, and damn it, I don't know what to do, and I have to protect you and Helena, and Hogwarts, but how can I?"

She raised her head, looking into her eyes with her own deep blue, which were pleading. "How can I protect you from this?"

Helga found herself crying too, even as she placed her fingers in her loose hair, kissed her and said, laying her forehead against hers "You don't have to do it alone, Rowena, I promise I'll help you. And Godric. And - and Salazar."

Rowena closed her eyes and laid her head against her shoulder. "Helga, I love you," she whispered.

"So do I. And I love Helena, I love Hogwarts, and I am never letting anyone take them away from us. I promise."

"Helga," Rowena whispered again. "I don't deserve you."

This made her laugh and cry at the same time, pressing her lips to her soft hair, managing "Of course you do."

"Why are they always in another language?" She murmured after a second. "If you could understand them....."

"It seems you're a show off even in your subconscious."

Rowena elbowed her.


	30. Chapter 30

_March, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

"Mama, Mother, wake up! Wake up!"

Helga cracked open her eyes to see that it was still dark. There was a small, dim shadow in the doorway, excitedly jumping up and down. "It's snowing!"

"Snowing?" She croaked, sitting up and yawning. "It's March."

"I know, but it's snowing, Mama, come and look!"

Disbelieving, Helga climbed out of bed, put on her robe and a pair of slippers and pushed back the curtain. Sure enough, little flakes of snow were flying past in the dim. She doubted it would stick. They were far too light . The sun was rising, casting some light, although it was mostly dark. "It's actually snowing," she laughed with surprise.

"I know, Mama, I'm not a liar."

"I never said you were," Helga laughed.

"Can I go outside?"

"Helena, it's five in the morning, and it isn't fully bright."

"Oh," she sighed rather morosely, for a three year old.

"Here," Helga said climbing back into bed and pulling back the duvet. "But be careful not to wake up Mother."

"She sleeps heavily," Helena giggled, remembering something Helga had said before.

"Aye, she does at that," Helga whispered, and almost as if she knew they were talking about her, Rowena gave a little moan and turned over, her black hair rippling across the pillow. Helga was glad she was sleeping properly, if fitfully.

"Mama," Helena whispered after a minute, settling herself between them.

"Yes darling?" She replied.

"Why don't I have a papa?"

She felt the smile slip off her face. "What?"

"At the house, they said I don't have a papa."

"Who said?"

"Ummmmm I don't know, the grown ups."

She wriggled, far more concerned with trying to see if she could tie curls of her hair together.

"Did they say it to you?" Helga asked, frowning.

"No. Alien's mama said it, I think."

"Aileen," she corrected, finding a smile rising to her cheeks.

"That."

"What did she say?"

"I don't know, Mama. She said I was illimate or something. You're annoying me."

"I'm annoying you?" She asked, finding a laugh bubble in her throat. Helena had clearly heard it from someone, probably Salazar or Rowena.

There was a little sighing noise, and then "Hello little eagle. When did you come in here?"

"I came in here because it's snowing."

"Is it?" Rowena asked Helga over her head. "In March?"

"Yes. It won't stick."

"I hope it does," Helena sighed happily. "Because then I can go to Janet's house."

Helena sometimes made up her own little imaginary friends. "Is Janet your friend?"

"Yes Mama. I went to her house last week, honest, and we had cake, and then lots and lots of chocolate and then we went on her swings and-"

"And then you were violently sick, I should imagine," Helga said, smiling as she traced Helena's lips.

"This is a bad mouth. It tells fibs."

"That's not bad, Mama, it's clever, Uncle Godric said, cause I have imagkination."

Helga laughed.

When she had drifted off to sleep, possibly dreaming of snow and chocolate and cakes, Helga whispered to Rowena what she had told her.

"But they don't....they can't know, can they?" she replied urgently.

"I don't know," Helga whispered. "She said illigimate or something....maybe they were just thinking you weren't really married, or that Salazar wasn't truly the father...."

Rowena nibbled her lip. "Helga, what are we going to do if they do know?"

"They don't," she soothed. "They can't. You're married to Salazar, even the druid swears it."

"Mm. Miraculous what a confundus charm can do, isn't it?"

"Truly fascinating," she smiled. "Honestly, Rowena. Worrying over nothing, I think. If the druid swears you're married, and Salazar swears it and you swear it, then it's just cruel gossip."

"Right. I never liked Mrs Alien anyway."

"Aileen," she giggled.

"Whatever it is. Stupid name, if you ask me."

"Says the woman whose entire family have names beginning with RO."

Rowena bit her lip, eyes glittering. "Oh Helga, I missed this."

"Are you alright now?"

"I think so," she whispered. "Paranoia and lack of sleep, and stupid visions....I mean, not all of them might even be so. I was just being silly."

They drifted back to sleep, in the warm, until Helena woke up, and as it was completely bright pestered them until Rowena said "Alright, then, do you want to go outside, Helga?"

"Why not?"

They washed, dressed, and Helga wrestled Helena into her cloak, hat, scarf and gloves while she fidgeted. "Ro, you better wear yours."

"I'm fine with a warming charm and my cloak."

"You are not," Helga wrapped the Ravenclaw scarf she had knitted for her around her neck, and then pulled her to her, tying it. "There. And your hat."

Rowena rolled her eyes, but allowed Helga to put a knitted sparkling silver hat on her head. Her hair spilled out under it in black waves, contrasting beautifully. "There you are."

"Why can't I have an ordinary colour?"

"Because you're anything but ordinary, my love."

"Aw."

The cute moment was interrupted by impatient tugging at her cloak. "Mama, can we go outside now?"

"Of course," Helga smiled.

There was nobody outside, given the early hour, and just to be sure, Helga cast a charm that meant nobody could see them. Silly as it was, she wanted this to be a family event, and not something in which they would have to pretend to be simply best friends. Helena danced round in the light dusting of snow, sticking out her tongue and then laughing as they landed in her mouth. She wanted to build a snowman, no matter how many times Rowena told her there wasn't enough snow, so went off to find some while they sat together on the bench in front of the birdbath. It was cold for March, too, and one would be fooled into thinking it was still winter. Helga watched Helena run around, turned away from Rowena, who was watching her too. "You know," she said quietly. "I'm not sure it's entirely good for her to be alone so much."

"Alone?" Helga asked. "She has us, doesn't she? Godric, and Salazar and Faye?"

"I mean other children. Friends."

"She's only three. She'll make those when she's older."

Helga didn't want to admit this selfish part in her that wanted to keep Helena just for them, their own little bubble of sunshine.

"Mm," Rowena said, sliding her arms around her waist and laying her head in the crook of her shoulder. "I imagine it's just because of how lonely I was. I just don't want her to be like me, Helga."

"Being like you wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

"You don't have to flatter me, Helga. I know I'm selfish, I'm cowardly, and I'm dishonest. I want Helena to be like you."

"And you don't put yourself down, Rowena. I'm setting you a challenge, alright?"

"Alright," she said slowly, and Helga could feel her smile. "You have to be positive."

"For how long?"

"Two weeks."

"Hmm. What do I get if I complete it?"

"My undying love," she teased.

"Mm, alright then. When does it begin?"

"Now."

"Right."

There was a pause. "What am I supposed to do?"

Helga turned, and looked into her face, at her nose, which was turning red, and her eyes, which were wide and glittering for the first time in months. "Just be positive."

Helena came running over then, and said morosely "It's not good snow."

"Well maybe you'll just have to wait until next winter again," Helga said, sitting her up on her lap as she began to play with her long curls, but then grew bored and looked up at the morning sky instead. "It's not snowing anymore," she said sadly.

"Well," Helga said, putting her face close to hers. "I'm sure it's time for breakfast now. Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"Well then," she laughed, picking her up as they stood, and walked into the castle for breakfast.

******** 

_May, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Helga was finding herself more and more excited about the wedding. Helena was going to be flower girl, a task she was both immensely proud of, and excited about. They had gotten a very pretty little white lace dress with a blue ribbon, and she would be throwing, which Helga was sure she'd do with enthusiasm, flower petals from a little basket. "Isn't it odd to think of," she said, lying in bed one night. "Godric getting married?"

"I know," Rowena smiled, finishing brushing her hair and climbing into bed. "He's the second eldest, but I think somehow I've always thought of him as the youngest, sort of like a little brother."

Helga could see her silvery stretch marks through the material of the nightgown, and she said again "You know you could get rid of them."

"I don't want to," she replied, looking down. "They remind me of one of the happiest times of my life, and also of my imperfections."

"Even your imperfections are perfect," Helga smiled at her, then sighed happily. "We're getting old, I think. We're both twenty eight."

"Godric is thirty."

"Salazar is thirty three."

"Thirty three!"

"How is his hair not grey yet?"

"I bet he uses magic," Rowena mused. "Some kind of mysterious magic none of the rest of us know of."

"I doubt it. Maybe he just has good genes."

"Mm. Blow out the candle, love, will you?"

Helga blew it out gently, plunging the room into darkness, then lying back down and whispering "Rowena, we'll always be together, won't we?"

Rowena gave a surprised laugh. "Of course we will. You, Helena and I, we'll always be a family. Helena will always be our baby, even when she grows up and has her own little babies."

"I just....I just never want to lose you. Either of you."

"I know. Do you remember what you said to me, that first night, when my father died?"

"Yes," she said softly.

"You said you'd stay however long I wanted you to, even if I said forever. I want you to stay forever. And if you'll have me, I'll stay with you forever."

"Of course I'll have you," she laughed, and then whispered "I love you."

"Mm...." Rowena murmured.

 

The next day, Rowena was sitting in her office once again, doing her work, and as Helga would usually do, she came up behind her and slid her arms around her neck, kissing the side of her head. But unlike Rowena's usual playful response, she sighed. "Helga, I'm working."

This hurt, hurt like a blade to her chest. Her arms slid away. "What are you doing?" She asked quietly.

She sighed and brushed her hair back from her face. "Just some essays."

"I can help you with them, if you wish-"

"No!" Her outburst made Helga jump, and she exhaled, closing her eyes. "Helga, I'm fine. I just.....I want to be alone. Give me space, stop bloody - stop _whining_ all the time, alright?"

Helga blinked. "Alright," she whispered, and drifted away, closing the door to her study behind her, feeling ridiculously hurt.


	31. Chapter 31

_April, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Helga's voice was gentle. "Are you still having those dreams?"

Rowena hesitated before saying "Yes."

"Tell me," she whispered, reaching for her hand over the table between the armchairs. They were sitting in the Room, had been chatting easily.

"I go somewhere in them."

The night before, she had not been her. She could sense it, as her boots crunched over snow. Everything looked vague and hazy, the frosted trees like ghosts instead of the real thing. She had been looking for someone, someone she was not sure of. But when she thought of whoever it was, she felt a rush of emotion, so strong it had shocked her awake. Helga's brown eyes bored into hers as she said "I wish I could go with you."

Of course, there was a way she could show her; Salazar's pensive. But she had never wanted Helga to see these things. Rowena sighed, but felt a small tired smile rise to her face. "I'm alright, Helga, I truly am. They're less in numbers, these days."

This was only a half lie, as she had not had one of her dreams in about a week, and even then it had been one of the more indistinct ones. She hoped this meant they were gone for good. "Are you eating?" Helga asked.

"Not at this present moment."

She rolled her eyes, the sunlight streaming through the glass window casting her face in radiance. "I mean generally. You barely touched dinner."

"I don't care for steak," she said lightly, then changed the subject "Helga, have you thought about clothes for the wedding?"

Helga frowned slightly. "Not really, apart from Helena. I mean, I don't really need anything new, do I?"

To Rowena, who in her childhood had received new dresses as often as food, this seemed ridiculous. "Of course you do," she smiled, remembering her nurse's stupid little rules of etiquette, still locked in her brain after the years. "One must never be seen in the same dress at formal functions."

"I'm sure I have something. I never wore the dress Godric gifted me much."

"That was years ago, Helga. The style has gone out of fashion."

Helga laughed. "Who knew you were so interested in clothes?"

"I'm not, particularly," she defended. "I just think you deserve something new and pretty. We could get you measured. And I haven't been measured in years."

"Hmm. None of those stupid corset things, I hope."

"No," she said, laughing. "I promise."

 ********

_May, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

"Show us the dress!" Rowena demanded, and Faye laughed, and lead them into the bedroom, opening the wardrobe and taking it out. This was a momentous occasion, but of course Katherine was with them, meaning no "displays of affection" as Rowena put it. Helga liked Katherine, and she should have liked to be proper friends with her, as Faye was, but there was an invisible barrier betwixt them. A breath escaped Helga's lips. It was beautiful lace, pure white, with a long train. "It's beautiful," she whispered, absolutely enchanted.

"Well, try it on, then!" Katherine exclaimed.

Faye laughed and did so, then pulled a face as she tried to close it. "Oh dear. I may have to loose a few pounds."

"We can enlarge it," Helga said dismissively.

"Yes, well, I should like to think I could take it off."

"That's Godric's job," Katherine said, brushing her dark hair behind her ear, and Helga was scandalised.

Faye and Rowena laughed as she held up her hair so Rowena could close it, with slight difficulty, then turned around, her hair now streaked with shades of pink.

Faye was quite tall, even in her usual size, thin and willowy, and the dress carefully fitted itself around her slim waist and legs, gathering in a pool behind her. Helga had an odd feeling rising in her, something almost like jealousy. She didn't like it. As a girl, she had often thought of her wedding, imagined dresses and flower arrangements and happiness. Helga swallowed, then raised her hands to her mouth. "Oh Faye, you look beautiful."

"Radiant," Katherine agreed. "But your neck is rather bare. Do you have any pendant, or anything?"

"Ooh!" Faye exclaimed. "Yes! My mother's diamond one. It's something old, too, isn't it? And then new would be my dress, blue my hair-"

"Isn't that cheating?" Rowena asked with a smile.

"Well, maybe, but who cares? Something borrowed....hmm, I don't know."

They were stumped, until Katherine said "I wore, at my wedding, my mum's tiara. I still have it, if you wish."

"Would you? Oh thank you!"

She laughed. "I'll get it now, if you want."

"Oh good, and I'll get my mum's pendant. Back in a mo-"

They both disappeared, and then Rowena turned to Helga. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"

"Mm. It just feels, you know, odd."

"How so?" Rowena asked, her eyes careful.

She sighed. "I suppose because....well, I always wanted to get married, and now I imagine I'm a little bit jealous, selfish as it sounds."

"Ah Helga, honestly, weddings are nothing more than hype and certificates."

She managed a small smile. "I know, it's very stupid. I suppose it's just mixed up emotions."

"Don't worry, darling."

Rowena leaned in for a kiss, and then there was the sound of someone in the doorway, and thinking it was Faye, Helga looked up. It was Katherine, and when she saw her, she turned sharply on her heel, walking out of the cottage.

 

Katherine was walking determinedly away from her, sparkling tiara clasped in one hand. "Katherine!" She called, slightly out of breath. "Katherine, wait!"

Katherine stopped, then turned around. Her face was flushed, with embarrassment or anger Rowena couldn't tell, and she stopped, slightly out of breath, unsure what she was going to say. Ridiculous explanations flashed through her head - We're very close friends......trick of the light......

"Kat-"

"I didn't know....I thought....Helena-"

She was speaking quickly, and Rowena exhaled. "I know, Katherine, but if you just let us explain-"

She shook her head, her face turning pale. "I didn't see anything," she said, seemingly making up her mind what to do.

"Right, but-"

She turned again, and went on her way, and Rowena was left staring after her, until she heard "Rowena!"

Behind her, Helga was walking quickly towards her, her face the picture of concern and anxiety. "Rowena - what happened?"

"I don't quite know....." she murmured, turning. "She said she saw nothing....."

"So she's just going to pretend it didn't happen? Oh Rowena, what are we going to do if she tells people?"

"I don't think she will.......it's odd. Helga, we're going to have to be far more careful if things like that can happen."

"I like Katherine," she whispered. "I shouldn't like to think she'll leave over it."

 

Later, Faye caught them in the Great Hall, and said breathlessly "Where did you go earlier? You didn't get to see the tiara!"

Her voice was good humoured, meaning Katherine hadn't told her, although if she had, of course, it wouldn't particularly matter.

"Katherine saw us kissing," Helga murmured, cutting up Helena's sausages for her.

"What?" Faye asked, colour draining out of her face.

She nodded tiredly. Katherine wasn't at dinner. However, Erasmus was eating cheerily, laughing with Godric. He didn't look like someone who had been shocked by news of an illicit affair. Faye went over to him and asked "Where's Katherine?"

"Oh, she's not feeling well. Stayed behind in our rooms."

Helga felt a pit in her stomach. She hated the thought of anyone leaving because of them. She hoped they hadn't disgusted her so much she was ill. Perhaps she was simply pretending.

"Mama, is Katherine sick?" Helena asked, beginning to eat her sausages.

"Yes," she replied. "And don't eat with your fingers, Helena."

"Will I make her a get well card?"

"If you wish to."

There was silence as they ate before Helena said, completely randomly "Can I have a birthday cake?"

She felt a laugh in her throat, despite her morose feeling. "A birthday cake? It's not your birthday!"

"But the cake won't know, Mama," she told her, nodding. "Because it doesn't think and it isn't a being."

Helga shook her head bemusedly. It must have been Rowena's genes.

********

_June, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Katherine avoided them. After the Incident, as Rowena took to calling it inside her head, she never seemed to be left alone with either or both of them. On one occasion, when Rowena was sitting alone in the staff room, Katherine came in, only to leave again once she saw who was in there. It was getting ridiculous, and really quite hurtful.

Even Erasmus, whom Rowena would have thought to be even more unobservant than Godric, noticed it. "It's very odd," he said curiously. "And quite rude. Did anything happen between you?"

Rowena looked at his nice, normal round face and his nice, normal blonde hair and she said "No."

"I can talk to her, if you wish?"

"No!" She said quickly, too quickly. His eyebrows knitted together.

"I mean," she said hurriedly. "It's probably something silly."

"Hmm," he said, but left it at that.


	32. Chapter 32

_July, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

There was somewhat of a strain on their relationship now, and they could both clearly sense it, no matter the fact that they never talked about it. It was as if they were trying to pretend that it wasn't there, although Katherine was still aloof, and when she spoke to them made her voice extra polite, and it hurt her, although Helga tried not to show it.

Helga woke early on the morning of the wedding. It was bright outside, summer sunshine spilling under the blinds and bathing the room in dim light. The cottage was still with silence, and the only noise was Rowena's slow breathing and birds outside. Rowena was lying on her side with her arm under the pillow, black hair startlingly dark against the white of the pillow it spilled over. As Helga looked at her, she thought, with a slight sigh, that there were new little lines under her eyes. Of course she didn't care, she loved every line and wrinkle on her face, regardless of how many there were.

The only thing she worried about was the anxiety that had put them there. Salazar must have noticed the new mixed feelings she had about him, but he seemed to see her much less than he had. He spent more time in his dungeons or his cottage, far more than he had, and crawling anxiety that they were each drifting apart came upon her. Of course, Godric had never seemed happier, now with Faye, and he was much the same as he had always been. But she worried that Rowena was drifting away from her, and there was nothing that scared her more. "Stop looking at me," she murmured sleepily, her eyes still closed.

Helga forced a little smile. "It's nearly time to be up for the wedding."

"Mm."

Nothing else was said. There was no little joke or smile, barely any excitement.

"Aren't you excited?" She asked, eyes searching her face carefully, because when Rowena was closed like this, it usually meant she was hiding something.

"Mm," she said again, just that little noise, eyes still closed, though Helga could have sworn she sounded like she was about to cry.

 

Rowena wasn't sure what she was feeling. She stared at herself in the mirror, pale and unsmiling, brush and comb hovering above her head. What was wrong with her? Godric and Faye were two of her best friends, and of course she was delighted that they had found happiness together. But she couldn't hype herself up, couldn't feel anything but.....what was it? Sadness? Guilt overtook her once again. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, and she would be happy. She wouldn't ruin their special day.

"Rowena?" Helga said, from the bathroom door, and she turned.  She was already ready, in cheery yellow, her hair cascading down her back and shoulders in a golden waterfall. She was so beautiful it made her chest hurt. "Yes?" She managed.

"I've got Helena ready. We're leaving in ten minutes."

There were so many words she wanted to say, so many words that they were all fighting to find their way out of her mouth and as a result none of them were quite making it.

"Oh," she said. "Alright."

 

The seats were packed, on one side where the majority had red hair, and the other. Helga didn't know what she had expected, but Faye's family seemed so ordinary, in contrast to her own vibrancy. Her six brothers and their wives and children took up the majority of space and her mother, along with a positive team of sisters. Helga and Rowena sat at the front, while Salazar was best man.

"This bloody monkey suit has me cooked," Godric hissed audibly to Salazar, adjusting his collar. Rowena rolled her eyes at Helga. It was just like Godric to blame his nerves on the environment rather than himself. The talking died, the music began, and they twisted in their seats to see Helena coming up the path, enthusiastically throwing flowers everywhere, and then Faye with her father. The morning summer sun glistened off her blue hair, visible under the veil. Her father stood proudly, arm in arm with her, and smiled as he left her off at the altar, and Helena abandoned her basket and came to sit on Helga's knee.

Helga began to get weepy rather fast.

"Godric and Faye have written their own vows."

Of course they would.

"Faye," Godric began. "All of my life, I felt as if somebody had given me a map, except it was only half finished, and they were probably drunk, because I never knew what it was for."

There was laughter, and Rowena rolled her eyes again, though felt herself crying.

"I wandered through life with that map, not really knowing what it was for, searching for the missing piece, but I never found it until I met you. You had the other half of the map, and our pieces fit so beautifully together. I finally found what I had been looking for all of those years of wandering around aimlessly. I love you, Faye, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Even Salazar was looking suspiciously misty eyed. Helga was weeping, and Helena was sucking her thumb, gazing at them.

Rowena reached for Helga's hand and squeezed it reassuringly, tears falling down her face as Godric kissed Faye so enthusiastically that her veil fell off.

 

Children ran around, laughing and seemingly playing tag, the sunlight shining off their hair, and Helena, her cheeks bright, playing with them.

It wasn't long until music began to play. Faye and Godric took to the floor, dancing so energetically that people around them kept a wide distance as though in fear of injury. Katherine and Erasmus began to dance, and then Salazar and Faye's sister. Helga eyed Rowena, but she stared into her glass as though lost in it. "Dance with me?" She asked finally, putting down her own. Rowena hesitated, and it hurt, it hurt her so much she didn't think she could hide it. Her diadem was in her hair, and Helga had the most intense urge to throw it off dramatically, and sob while she did it, as if she were in a bad romance novel. Rowena eventually put down the glass,  took her hand and whispered a charm, and Helga sighed. "I do wish we wouldn't have to do that."

"You know how it is."

"I know," she sighed again, but then smiled, putting her hand on Rowena's back. "Today was absolutely beautiful," she whispered, watching as dusk fell, the fairy lights lighting up the grounds.

"Mm."

"He's matured a lot," Helga smiled. "Whether it was the travelling, or just Faye."

She could feel Rowena's skinny shoulder blades through her robes. Her arms, too, were spindly. Rowena had always been thin, naturally skinny, but this was borderline unhealthy.

Helga had wished, just for today, that things could go back to how they had been. They couldn't, and they didn't. "Are you alright?" She asked, as Rowena twirled her, and Rowena replied "I do wish you'd stop asking me that. I'm fine."

She wanted so hard to believe her.

 

By two in the morning, many guests had left for bed, and there was a sleepy and drunk feeling in the air. Rowena and Helga were sitting, not talking, watching others dance, as Rowena had grown tired soon after the first. Helena was asleep on Salazar's lap, her thumb in her mouth, and Helga put her to bed, then went into the bedroom where Rowena was taking off her jewellery.

She sat silently on the bed, attempted to unstrap her shoes. There were bad feelings  simmering in her, resentment against Rowena for ruining what should have been a perfect day, and then guilt. Rowena took off her necklace, and it spilled through her fingers onto the bedside table.

"Helga," she said finally.

"Yes?" Helga said, eventually getting the stupid strap and the shoe fell off, onto the wooden floor with a thump.

"Helga, we need to talk."

"Talk away," she said, starting on the other.

"Please look at me."

She stopped with the strap and looked up, curls falling into her face. Rowena was pale, paler than usual, and she nibbled her lip. Helga's chest contracted.

"I'm sorry, Helga."

"Sorry doesn't quite cut it," she replied, going back to her shoe.

There was a pause. "I can't....."

"You're being so selfish," Helga said, suddenly, the words finding their way out of her mouth. "You wouldn't dance with Godric, you wouldn't play with Helena, you had a face on you the whole day-"

"Helga-"

"Godric asked me if you were feeling alright, and I told him you were ill."

"I just...."

To Helga's horror, she began to cry. "Helga, I don't know what's wrong with me, and I'm so bloody terrified - please-"

Helga had it up to here with her tears and her pleading and her apologies, and although she felt so selfish and so guilty, she couldn't stop the words cascading from her lips, forgetting the shoe. "It's always about you, Ro, you always expect me to be there, and I always am, I look after everyone, but who is there to look after me?"

She was crying now herself, tears of anger and guilt, and Rowena looked frozen in place, her mouth open in surprise. "Helga," she whispered. "Helga, I didn't know you felt like that."

"Of course you didn't," she managed. "You barely notice anything apart from you."

"That's not true-"

"And you keep feeling sorry for yourself, poor Rowena with her dreams and her bloody fucking problems, her fucking horrible childhood - well, Rowena, you weren't the only one."

She collapsed into tears again, sure she had hurt her, angry with herself for thinking it. "I have feelings too, I'm not fucking happy all the time, I hurt, and I'm sad, and I worry so much about what you told me-"

"Helga, please, please calm down-"

She couldn't, now hyperventilating, all her worry falling on top of her.

Rowena moved forward and hesitantly put her hand on her back. "Breathe, Helga, please. Deep breaths."

She was gasping for air, choking on tears and anger and fear and hurt and guilt. Rowena began to rub her back, whispering. "Helga, Helga, I love you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry....."

"I can't breathe," she managed.

"Should I get Katherine?"

Her face was pinched with worry, and Helga's eyesight blurred.

"Not - Katherine," she gasped. "I-"

Rowena was murmuring something, and then lifting her in her arms as though she were as light as feather, and then blackness overtook her.


	33. Chapter 33

When she slipped back into consciousness, the first thing she saw were six pale faces; Rowena, Salazar, Godric, Faye, Erasmus and Helena, sitting on Faye's lap.

She seemed to be in the hospital wing, as gleaming surfaces surrounded her, and she was tucked tightly into a bed with crisp sheets, a vase of dahlias on the windowsill. It was morning, judging by the light coming in the window, and relief flooded their faces. "Oh thank goodness," Godric said with relief. She seemed to be wearing a cotton nightdress, and she wondered briefly where her dress was before she realised she didn't care.

"We were watching you sleeping," Helena told her solemnly, sucking on a sweet Faye seemed to have given her.

"She means we were present while you were unconscious," Salazar corrected, so much like himself and the old days that it made her want to cry.

Rowena was the closest to her, and she looked like she had been asleep in the chair she was curled in, her hair askew, her eyes red. She was still wearing her blue dress robes, though they were crumpled. Their eyes met, and they talked without speaking.

_Are you alright?_

_Fine._

_I'm so sorry._

_I'm sorry too._

 

Katherine, apparently seeing she was awake, came over briskly, and somehow managed to say without looking at her "You had an asthma attack."

"But I don't have asthma," she replied, willing her to just have enough bravery and be good enough to look her in the eye.

She busied herself with tucking the blankets around her. "Brought on by stress, I think."

"You picked the right night to have it," Godric said, with an attempt at humour. "We were still dancing when we saw you."

"I'm sorry I ruined your night," she whispered.

"Of course not," Faye smirked. "It's not like we were going to do anything important."

She wasn't ill enough that she didn't feel her face turn red.

"You should be right to go soon," Katherine told her, still impressively avoiding eye contact.

 

When she did get back to the cottage, Helena, after checking that she was alright with two spellotaped spoons, which she insisted was a stethoscope, went off to look at Faye's nifflers, as she had promised to help Salazar take care of them while she were gone on honeymoon. Helga was tired, and so she went to the couch where she lay. Neither of them talked for a while. Helga didn't find herself sleepy as such, it was more a tiredness in her bones, and she sighed.

"Helga, I am going to take care of you. I promise."

"I didn't mean what I said," she whispered, watching as Rowena blinked, long dark lashes brushing her cheeks.

"Oh Helga, of course you did. You don't lie."

"What's happened to us?"

She wasn't sure she wanted an answer to the that question. It seemed as though overnight they had gone to being besotted with each other to being sick of each other, bad feelings in the air, so many words she wanted to scream at her.

Rowena sighed, then said "If you needed me to stay here forever, Helga, I would."

"But that's just it," she replied. "You have such pretty words, but that's all they are. They don't mean anything, and they never have. You promise things you can't give."

There was silence, then, until Rowena said finally "I need to have a bath."

"Go, then," she whispered, and didn't get up to watch her leave the room.

 

It was soon Helena's birthday, and she invited her friend Morgan from the village. The little girl looked around at the castle, wide eyed, before Helena tugged her off to "pretend to be mermaids."

They wriggled around on their stomachs ("Because mermaids don't have legs, Mother") and Rowena was sure their clothes would be all grass stains. The sky was blue, but almost too much so. It looked harsh and unforgiving, and she wondered why there were no clouds to soften it up a bit. She sat with her book beside Helga at a small metal table, but neither of them were talking. "Do you want some pumpkin juice, girls?" Helga called, holding the jug, lifting her free hand to shield her eyes from the sun. They paused their wriggling so Helena could yell "MERMAIDS DON'T DRINK PUMPKIN JUICE, MAMA!"

She laughed, and Rowena felt like her chest was being ripped apart. "Do mermaids eat cake?"

Helena considered. "They might, if it was one of their birthdays."

They had a whispered conversation, and then she said solemnly "We've decided they do, even if they don't, 'cause we're not real ones."

"Well come and eat some cake, little mermaids, and then you can go back to playing."

They ate some cake, and Rowena didn't hear what they were saying because there seemed to be a buzzing in her ears.

 

Later, when Morgan had returned home, Salazar emerged from his dungeons and handed her a wrapped box. "Say thank you," Helga told her, sitting beside Rowena. "Thank you, Uncle!" Helena said, and though she was clearly itching to open the box she was a polite child and threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her back, smiling, an odd expression for him.

She began to rip open the wrapping paper, unearthing a box. Opening the box, she found two feet, in white shoes.

Excitement dawned on her face as she unearthed a doll. She had long blonde curls and large blue eyes, and was dressed in a white dress.

"What are you going to call her?" Helga asked.

She scrunched her nose. "Belle," she said finally.

"Belle?"

"Yes, 'cause she's beautiful and Belle means beautiful."

There was definitely something odd in Salazar's smile, almost sad, really.

When she put Helena to bed she insisted on bringing her new doll with her, and went with her in her arms. Helga sat on the edge of her bed, brushing her hair back from her forehead. Rowena was in her office again, as she so often was these days and she sighed and kissed her forehead. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yes! And do you know, Morgan said she saw _a_ _ghost in Gryffindor Tower."_

She whispered the last part, eyes wide, and Helga laughed gently. "There are no ghosts at Hogwarts, dear Helena."

"Yes there was, he was all bloody and chained and he went "Oooh!" like that, Mama, and he would grab you like that!"

She sat up and tickled Helga under the arms, making her laugh and tickle her back until they were both a giggling heap. "Oh Helena," she said finally, her eyes wet with tears from laughing so much. "You funny, funny child. I love you. Don't think about the ghost though, will you? Or you won't sleep."

"Will you sing me your song, Mama?"

"That's the sick song, darling."

"But it's my birthday, and maybe I am sick."

She gave a fake sounding cough, and Helga laughed again. "Alright then, my little fat grape, as it says. Here...."

  
_August, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Rowena went where she often did when she felt she needed space; the top of Ravenclaw tower. She wasn't much surprised to see somebody already there, sitting on a beam without any apparent care for safety, the wind whistling through his black hair, blowing it back.

This was her domain, but she never begrudged Salazar coming here, as he often did. She sat beside him, and saw the beautiful view, an eagle's view, even. The lake stretched on, the surface shimmering in the sun, the tiniest ripples showing the presence of Barnaby or the merpeople. The glass of Helga's greenhouses winked up at her, and she could see the dense trees of the forest that stretched for miles into the distance. Salazar disliked obvious topics of conversation, and he did not mention, as everybody else seemed to, how thin she was. She was glad of this. "Salazar," she said finally, breaking the silence, loose black strands of hair blowing around her face. "Do you feel as though everything is as it should be?"

Salazar looked at her with cool grey eyes, the same cool grey eyes she often saw in her dreams. She shivered, and she hoped he thought it from the cold. She hated the way she felt, but somehow she felt like he was responsible for what she had seen, although she prayed with everything in her, to a God she didn't believe in, that she was wrong.

"No," he said finally. "No I do not."

She sighed and brushed her hair back. "We're drifting apart, I fear."

"Rowena, you know why I disagree with you three."

This old argument again. "I'm not in the mood."

"It's ridiculous," he continued. "Those people shouldn't be allowed here, and I've always thought it."

She had worried, back in their first year, that Salazar would treat the muggleborns unfairly, but he always seemed to treat them all the same; with indifference, almost contempt, and she knew that none of them really liked him. She felt her own short temper rising.

"Salazar, this is ridiculous. Your views are old fashioned. Magic is beautiful and when children have it we should encourage it."

He lapsed into silence, his way of showing sullenness and perhaps slight anger. He eyed her diadem. "Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure."

He rolled his eyes. "Trust you and Godric to make such an immature jest."

She suddenly wanted nothing more to be away from him, although it was obvious he was trying to make amends in his own way. She grasped a beam above her to stand, and said "I'm going to go back inside. Lesson plans."

"Mm. Rowena, what's up between you and Helga?"

She froze. "What?"

Of course, she had sensed, perhaps, a distance, but it was so small and she had wanted it so badly not to be there that she convinced herself it was too tiny to cause damage.

"You're.....distant."

He seemed to search her face. "It's like I always said, Rowena, isn't it? Love doesn't last."

She felt foolish tears prick the corners of her eyes. He was being cruel again, as he sometimes did, except this time it was getting to her. "Shut up, Salazar."

"We can all pretend the crack isn't there. But that won't fill it. Godric can pretend, off travelling, and you can pretend with your books-"

He was gathering momentum, a malicious glint in his eye.

"I said shut up!" She snarled, and without even thinking about it her wand was in her hand, and he was stood, brandishing his own.

"Do it," he invited, almost a smile on his lips, and she had a flash of thought, how he had become this, how he had become so bitter and twisted.

She lowered her wand after a minute, and breathing hard, shocked at both herself and him, she left.


	34. Chapter 34

Helga couldn't sleep. On the other side of the bed, Rowena breathed deeply, asleep, and she whispered, "Ro?"  
Usually, they would not be sleeping so far apart. But now there was empty space far between them, and slowly, Helga moved forward, cuddling close to Rowena. However, the other woman moved away, before murmuring, still asleep, "Leave me alone."

Helga blinked stupid tears out of her eyes.

  
Faye and Godric returned from their honeymoon, Faye with a healthy tan, Godric with a red face and neck. They were smiley, happy, bringing small gifts of shell necklaces and sweets. They clearly sensed the mood, and commented on how thin Rowena was, commented on Salazar being in his dungeons and not welcoming them.

Helga was sick of the mood around the castle. She didn't want the students to experience it when they returned. She wasn't brave, not like Godric, but she always saw the right thing to do, and now she saw that they had to talk. The first thing she did was find Katherine. Rowena refused to come with her, and she stashed that particular talk away for another day. She knocked on the open door of the hospital wing, and Katherine looked up from her desk where she was writing something. Her lips visibly thinned. "Katherine, can I speak to you for a moment?"

"I'm busy," she said curtly, shuffling some papers and rising, making to leave.

"Katherine," she said firmly, done with this. "Sit."

She waved her wand and two armchairs, a side table and a steaming teapot appeared. Katherine hesitated.

"Sit," she said again, pointedly, and she sat. Helga poured tea in the silence. "Sugar?"

Katherine nodded, her blue eyes wary as though she was expecting Helga to poison it.

Helga handed her her cup and then sipped her own. "Katherine, I'm sorry for what you saw. But if you can stand to talk about it like adults, and not keep hiding from us like children, please do."

Katherine blinked, clearly not expecting this, then put down her cup. "Goodness," she said eventually. "Well.....what's your relationship with Rowena?"

She flushed after she said this.

"We're lovers, I suppose," Helga said, refusing to be embarrassed. "And we have been for the last eight years."

"Oh," she said slowly, then reached for her teacup, taking a sip. "And.....she isn't married to Salazar?"

"No."

"Helena?" She asked, her voice careful.

Helga thought about the best way to explain it. "She's our daughter."

She looked very confused. "But it's not..." she bit her lip. "It's not, well, normal, is it?"

Helga felt, strangely, a tiny smile as she sipped her tea. "Normal? Katherine, normal isn't even a concept."

"But I mean- why would you choose to be with a woman when you could be burned for it?"

"I didn't choose it, Katherine. I loved her, and I still do-"

She swallowed, remembering the distance between them lately. "I love her more than I've ever loved anyone," she said softly. "It's the same love as yours for Erasmus."

She still looked confused. "But it's different."

For an adult woman, it was extraordinary how much she sounded like Helena, attempting to understand something.

"Women are supposed to be with men."

"But I don't want to be with a man," Helga half whispered. "I wouldn't be happy without her, and I know I wouldn't."

She looked miserably confused. "I'm sorry," she said eventually. "For avoiding you. It was dreadfully childish."

"I forgive you," she said carefully. She would never say "It's alright" because in her experience that made people think it was fine to do it again. "You didn't tell Erasmus, did you?" Helga asked.

"No. He asked me why I wasn't talking to you, and I said we just had a little falling out."

She sighed. "Well, I hope clearing this up makes you feel better."

She got a small smile. "Helga," she said. "You have hidden depths."

She smiled in return, then held out her hand. "Friends?"

She shook it, her clasp tight and not at all afraid. "Friends. I'll talk to Rowena later."

"Hmm, maybe not. She's not feeling well."

 

"So Katherine spoke to me at lunch."

"Mm," Helga said, not looking up from her tapestry.

"She said you were talking to her."

"Mm-hm."

Rowena sighed. "Helga, please look at me. Why are you so afraid of it?"

 _Because I fear my heart might rip in two_.

Rowena was forever pale and skinny, no matter how many times Helga made her eat or tried to get her to take sleeping potions. She was distant, and she didn't like to think about what her classes would be like once school started again.

She looked up, and met her blue eyes, her chest contracting. "She's alright, now."

"That's good."

"Aye, it is."

Rowena drifted away after a moment, and Helga pulled her needle through the holes, biting back her hurt.

********

_September, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Helena giggled as the bath filled with purple, blue and yellow bubbles. She caught one in her hand, and poked it. It popped loudly, leaving the fragrant smell of roses. Helga smiled from the edge of the bath.

"Mama," Helena started, watching the thick foam and the bubbles converge.

"Yes darling?"

"Is Mother alright?"

The smile faded. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because she cries a lot. Is she sad?"

Helga sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh," Helena looked down and popped several more bubbles, although her heart was no longer in it. "Is it because she has bad dreams?"

A hesitation, and then Helga smiled and held out a large fluffy towel. "Come on. You're finished."

She towelled her dry then kissed her nose. "Sometimes, Helena," she whispered, her face close to the little girl's. "Grown ups cry for no reason."

Helena scrunched her nose. "Grown ups are silly."

This made Helga laugh, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I suppose so. Oh Helena, you really are quite funny."

"I don't ever want to be a grown up," Helena said then. "It seems very depressing."

At this Helga began to cry, still smiling. "Mama? Mama, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Helga said, drawing her close. "Nothing at all."

 

School stared up again, and Rowena seemed much the same in classes, if a little more short tempered. She decided to grasp the bull by the horns, and at the beginning of lunch on the second week found Rowena in her classroom with one of the second years. "Can I talk to you?" She asked evenly. Up close, closer than she had been in a while, she noticed just how sharp Rowena's features had grown, although they had always been like that. Her cheekbones were like blades.

Her eyes widened just the tiniest little bit, taking in something she wasn't sure of. "Of course," she said eventually, brushing her hair behind her ear almost unconsciously, something Helga knew as a nervous habit. "Where?"

"The Room?" She suggested quietly, because a talk like this needed privacy. She was expecting a shouting match at the very least.

"Very well," Rowena said, just as quietly, and then "Thomas, you can finish yourself, can't you?"

"Yes Professor," he said, and they left.

 

Helga's room was no longer bright, airy, welcoming. Instead, it was dark outside the glass window, and the fireplace was barren, the torches on the walls dim.

This was how Rowena knew Helga had had enough. For a pleasant and warm woman, it was remarkable how strong she was inside. Unlike Rowena, who for all her sarcasm and bravado was about as strong as a weak twig.

"Now then," Helga flicked her wand a fire roared inside the grate, the torches burned brighter. Rowena sat on the edge of her armchair and said "What did you want to talk about?"

She knew full well what Helga wanted to talk about.

The light of the fire flickered across Helga's face, leaving most of it in shadow. "Us," she said carefully. "I want to talk about us."

"And what about us?"

"It's not......we're not like we used to be."

"Isn't that the whole point of ageing?" She asked. "Changing?"

Helga looked frustrated, her plump lips pursed. "You know what I mean, Rowena, and do not pretend you don't. It's ignorant, above all else."

Her eyes were steely, and Rowena almost felt a smile rise to her lips. The iron that she'd always suspected Helga to have was coming out. "I'm sorry," she said after a minute.

"You say that all the time."

"It doesn't mean I don't mean it."

"Rowena, it's just....."

She broke off, seemingly struggling for words. "You haven't kissed me in four months," she said eventually.

"Four months?" Rowena asked slowly.

"Not since Katherine."

"Oh," she said, looking down at her hands, at the ring on her finger that glimmered in the torchlight, a reminder of both Salazar and Helga.

"And you don't even care."

"I have more important things to worry about," she said slowly, not wanting to look up and see her face.

"Rowena, please. Can't you see what you're doing? Helena asked me yesterday why you're so sad."

This shocked her into looking up. "Sad?"

Helga nodded. "I told her you're not."

There was a pause. "You're not, are you? With - with us? You don't want to....leave?"

With Helga's words the last remaining feelings in her flared, and she managed "Of course not, Helga. You and Helena are the only things keeping me afloat. I love you, I love you both so much it's nearly killing me try to work out how to stop this-"

"Helga," she began again. "I - there's a reason, I promise, for all this."

"But you keep hurting me," she whispered, her voice pleading for an explanation. "One minute you tell me you love me and you explain, and then you're so cold, and you won't talk to me about anything."

"I just want everything to be the way it was before."

"But everything can't be the same again," Helga whispered, although she had no need to. "Everything changes, Rowena, and we change with it. You can't keep hanging onto the past."

There was a little pause before she added "And you can't keep planning for the future. That's what you're doing, isn't it? You're trying to stop whatever's going to happen, and you know that you still have one more prophecy. And it's scaring you, it's scaring you so much that you're cutting yourself off from everybody else, but you know what, Rowena? That's what scares me. You're so far away that I can't reach you, and that bloody terrifies me."

Helga was crying now, and it hurt her as it always did to see her upset. "Helga," she whispered, shifting to sit beside her, hesitantly putting her arm around her shaking shoulders. She didn't protest, wiping her eyes. "Rowena, everything's turned to fucking shit!"

This made Rowena laugh rather unexpectedly, and Helga managed "Why are you laughing?"

"Because, love, I don't think I've ever heard you curse as much as you have lately."

Slowly, Helga, tears still trickling down her cheeks, raised her head to kiss her. Their lips met, and then Rowena was crying, because she hadn't realised how much she had missed her, locked away in her office. Helga's arms travelled down hers, undid her belt, slid her hands under her robes, and then stopped, crying harder.

"What is it?" Rowena asked, rather breathless, feeling wet tracks of tears on her face.

"You're so thin, Rowena, what have you been doing to yourself?"

She pulled open her robes, sobbing so hard her chest was heaving, and Rowena was worried she was going to have another attack. Whatever it had been, she was sure it hadn't been asthma. "I'm fine," she soothed, and then looked down at herself for the first time in months. Her vision went swimmy. Under the line of her bra, her ribs were clearly sticking out, and her skin was papery, stretched over them like elastic just about to snap. "Oh goodness - Rowena, turn around."

She did so, shocked, and Helga pulled open the back of her robes. From her sharp intake of breath, she gathered it was just as bad at the back. She had purposefully avoided looking at herself in the mirror recently, terrified of what she might have seen if she looked closer. She'd known she was losing weight, of course, given her skipping meals, but nothing as drastic as this. "Rowena, do you see what I mean, this isn't healthy, it isn't- you need to eat. You need help."

"Help?" She whispered, turning. "I have you, don't I?"

"Proper help," Helga managed, tears still trickling down her face. "A proper medical examination. This is horrible, Rowena. Can't you see it?"

Of course she could, but the idea of herself in pain was so soothing it terrified her.

Helga looked quickly at the wall, and it was only then Rowena noticed a clock, which must have appeared only in the last few seconds.

It was twelve o'clock, meaning there was still half an hour left. "Come on," Helga said, rising, moving her hand away from Rowena's shoulder, where its absence burned. "If we go now, you can eat some lunch."

Rowena sighed, but waved her wand so her buttons and belt closed once more, then rose.


	35. Chapter 35

_October, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

Helga had fixed the problem with Katherine, and was working towards improving things with Rowena, but there was still Salazar. There was definitely something wrong with him. While he had always been abrupt, blunt, even sometimes rude, he had never purposefully set out to hurt any of them, but that was now what he always seemed to do. Whenever he came up from his dungeons he always had a cutting remark, and even drove several students to tears, causing another argument with Godric and Rowena to cease speaking to him altogether. Helga woke in the night in mid October to hear rain outside. It pattered gently onto the roof of the cottage, and she listened. She turned to look at Rowena in the dim light, and saw that she seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and perhaps even dreaming pleasantly thanks to Salazar's potions. She was still thin, but Helga tried to make sure she ate at every meal, especially since Katherine had looked rather worried and told her she was severely underweight. There was a creak out in the hall, and, frowning slightly, she sat up. "Helena?"

"Yes?"

She lifted the covers and climbed out of bed, went to open the door. Helena was sitting in the hall with her doll, watching the rain out the window.

"Helena, whatever are you doing? It's past twelve."

"I'm watching the rain, Mama," she said cheerfully. "I like watching it."

After a second, Helga sat down on the cool floor, and said "There's just something nice about it, isn't there?"

"Yes," Helena said, then laid her head on Helga's stomach and whispered "Is Mother alright now?"

"I think so."

"That's good," she yawned. "I was worried 'bout her, because sometimes when people are really thin, they can actually die."

"Well Mother isn't going to die," Helga replied. "So don't worry."

"Mama, Belle wants to know if I can have a sweet."

She laughed quietly. "Tell Belle no. It's too late."

"Oh dear, I don't think Belle is going to be happy, look Mama, she's biting you."

Helena made Belle rub her little painted mouth off her bare arm. "Ow!" Helga said, playing along. "That's very naughty, Belle. I shouldn't wonder if I'll have a mark."

"Belle has very big teeth, so it'll be like a werewolf bite."

There was a little sleepy pause. "Are there werewolves in the forest?"

"I don't think so. Anyway, don't think about such things when you're about to sleep. You'll have nightmares."

"No I won't. Uncle Godric says I'm big, and big girls don't have nightmares."

"What about Mother?"

"Mother isn't a girl, Mama, she's a woman," Helena murmured sleepily, her eyes closed.

Helga laughed, black curls spilling through her fingers as Helena moved her head. "Oh my Lena Beana," she whispered after a moment. "You are so clever."

Helena didn't answer, having fallen asleep, sucking the thumb on one hand, clutching her doll with the other.

Helga didn't like to move her, so she sat still, stroking her curls and listening to the soft rain outside.

********

_November, Scotland, 993 AD_

 

"Helga," Rowena whispered, and it seemed to bring her from the edge of sleep.

"Yes?"

"You're probably going to say no, but.....it's a clear night."

Helga sat up, a small smile on her shadowed face, dim in the poor light  . "Do you want to go and watch the stars?"

"Why not?"

Just as they were leaving, however, there was a creak, and then a small voice "Can I come outside too?"

Rowena turned in surprise to see Helena, rubbing at her eyes, hair askew.

"Oh Helena, you should be asleep."

"You're not," she pointed out, rather astutely for a four year old. "And," she added, playing her trump card. "You can't leave me here on my own, 'cause I'll tell Uncle Godric and he'll report you."

Helga laughed, and Rowena felt her mouth twitch.

"Fine," she said, and then reached for the cloak rack. "But you're putting on your cloak."

Helena hummed happily as she buttoned up her cloak then smoothed down her messy curls. "Now Helena," Helga whispered. "You've got to be very, very quiet. Or we'll wake people up."

Helena mimed zipping her lips, and she laughed. "They won't stay zipped for long. Come on, Rowena darling."

This was the first time she had called her darling in months. Ridiculously, it made Rowena's heart jump. They each took one of Helena's hands and she skipped as they went outside into the cool night air. The grass was wet with dew, but after a few whispered charms, they were as warm as if they had been in bed, and Helga sank to the grass, Helena sitting in her lap. "Do stars have names, Mama?" Helena asked curiously, looking up at the bright sky.

Helga laughed, throwing back her head. "No use asking me, Helena. Ask Mother."

"I'm not brilliant at astronomy," Rowena told her. "You'd want Salazar or Erasmus for that."

"Oh," Helena deflated, sitting back against Helga.

"They are pretty, though, Mother."

"I know," Rowena smiled at Helga. "But not as pretty as Mama."

"Why do I have to pretend like Uncle Sally is my papa?" She asked suddenly, and without warning. Rowena and Helga exchanged a look.

"Well Helena," Helga said carefully, always better at explaining this kind of thing. "There are some who wouldn't like to know that you have two mamas instead."

"That's stupid."

Helga laughed and smoothed down her unruly curls. "I know."

She gave a yawn, the slight wind blowing gently through her hair. "Mother, can you tell me one of the stories about Greece? A new one?"

"Alright," Rowena said, shifting closer so she was touching them both. "I think you'll like the one about Helen."

"That's nearly my name!" Helena said, happy because she had complained before about names she couldn't pronounce, and had a deep loathing for Oedipus.   
"I know. And she was the most beautiful woman in all of Sparta....."

 

Rowena had always had a way with words, far more so than Helga. To Helga, they were simply blocks on a page, even when she had learned to read them. She far preferred to hear Rowena tell them instead. Words were like liquid gold from her lips, and neither of them ever grew tired of them. Rowena had only gotten to the point where Helen was falling in love with Paris that Helena was fast asleep.

"I think we'll go back inside," she said gently, smiling at her.

"Mm, I too."

They put Helena to bed, and then retired themselves.

"Rowena?" Helga whispered, moving her arm to touch hers.

"Yes?" She murmured, sounding close to sleep.

"Tonight, I felt....I felt like we used to. I love you."

Rowena turned, and Helga saw that she was smiling. "Didn't you love me before?"

"Well yes, but.....things were, you know....off the last few months. But I realised tonight that I'm lucky, and I love you both with everything in me."

Rowena raised her hand to gently move a curl, and whispered "I love you, Helga."

The night was so much warmer than it had been in a while, lit by magic and love, and they slept in each other's arms for the first time in months.


	36. Chapter 36

_December, Scotland, 993 AD_

They didn't celebrate Christmas themselves, not being Christian, but the students always went home for it, warranting two weeks of holidays. Katherine and Erasmus were off visiting family, and so it was just the four again, like old times, plus Helena and Faye.

Of course, though, Salazar, in his new awful persona, had to ruin it. Dinner on that particular day was tense, and the two men kept sniping at each other. It wasn't until the tureen of peas began to wobble, Helena began to cry and Faye had snapped that if they couldn't stop themselves acting like children when they were around her, then perhaps they shouldn't be at all.

They all knew what was coming, and it finally blew up in the evening.

"Mother, why do they fight?" Helena asked. There were no noises, as somebody must have cast a charm, telling its own story.

Rowena sighed. "They're both immature and pigheaded and opinionated. Men, as you'll see, Helena, are often like that."

"That's not fair," Helga interjected. "Don't be sexist."

There was the sound of a door slamming, meaning Salazar had walked out, as he always did. Godric always stood his ground, but Salazar, perhaps proving he was his opposite, always left sooner or later. Helga sighed, and distracted Helena with her colouring, while Rowena watched out the window as Salazar stormed into his cottage, frowning.

Ten minutes later, Faye was walking through the drizzle and beginnings of dusk, a face on her so full of everything that Rowena couldn't distinguish one emotion, her hair pure black.

"It's Salazar," she said, as she came in, slightly out of breath. "He's going to leave."

The only sound for a moment was Helena's crayon, scratching across the page as she was oblivious. "Leaving?" Helga whispered. As bad as Salazar and Godric got, neither of them had ever threatened to leave.

"I'll talk to him," Rowena said, quickly making up her mind, walking quickly over to the cottage across the courtyard. She knocked loudly, and then the door burst open.

"Salazar?"

He was in his bedroom, flinging bits and pieces into his trunk without any apparent care. She winced as several books went flying in, pages fluttering. "Salazar, can't we talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said briskly, his voice full of suppressed anger, hair flying about his face as several pairs of green robes shoved themselves haphazardly into the trunk.

"So you're going to leave? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he said, closing the latches with a snap. The room was now nearly empty, and horribly bare. "It's been fun, but you know it won't last, not with the scum you insist on letting in."

She fingered the glossed wood of her wand. "So in your mind you're deserting a sinking ship?"

"Perhaps."

He sighed as she blocked the doorway. "Move aside, Rowena, before I make you."

"So all of this counts for nothing? Don't you respect us, your friends?"

There was something in his eyes, and she pressed on. "Don't you respect Helga, and the acceptance she has for everyone?"

"More fool her. Move aside."

"Don't you respect Godric, and the way he always does what is right?"

"What is right is not always the correct answer," he said evenly, and she felt a horribly bitter laugh that hurt her chest. "You are far more cowardly than I ever thought you, Salazar Slytherin."

"Cowardly I may be. It's the cowards who survive in the end, Rowena. You know what's coming."

She hesitated, then decided to play the fool. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really?" He hissed, coming closer to her, so close she could smell bitter potions and cauldron smoke. "What's pure always wins. You said that, did you not?"

"That was a prophecy," she hissed back, feeling anger swirl inside her. "It means nothing."

"You keep telling yourself that, Rowena. You know as well as I that soon an army will come, and they will rip this castle apart, stone by stone."

"They can try," she said, straightening her back.

He stared at her for a moment, and then said the most unexpected thing. "Come with me."

"W-what?" She spluttered, losing her composure.

"We've always been similar, have we not? Great minds think alike, Rowena. We could build a school far greater than this dump."

"Are you insane?" She asked, slightly dazed. Hogwarts was her life's work, one of the only reasons she was not dead by her own hand.

"Godric and Helga would not understand. You could take Helena, and we could start anew-"

Almost of its own accord, her hand shot out and slapped him sharply across the face. His head rocked from the impact, and his grey eyes flashed, plunging his hand into the pocket of his robes.

"CRUCIO!"

"PROTEGO!"

The red jet of light bounced off her shield, leaving her slightly rattled, and smashed an empty jar on the shelf. They stared at each other, breathing hard. "You really want to do this?" She snarled. "You want to die by my hand?"

She could feel her own madness and frustration, her own love and fierce protection, for Helga, for Helena, for Hogwarts, for Godric and her friends, for everything they had built together here, for everything she was willing to do to protect them, and he must have seen it in her eyes, but still persisted. "We are the only pure, Rowena. Godric is tainted with his fraternising with scum-"

A flick of her wand, a flick of his in return, and they were circling the room, each wary of the other. "And Helga?" He gave a soft little snort. "Well, she _is_ scum."

A scream erupted from her throat, shooting jinx after jinx, her own screams punctuating them. "YOU - BASTARD - DON'T - YOU - EVER - SAY - THAT - ABOUT - HER!"

He was breathing hard, looking exhilarated, excited, even. "Hit a nerve," he said, his voice mocking and cruel, and she could hardly believe that only an hour before she had counted this man as one of her best friends. "Both of you are almost more disgusting than mudbloods-"

This time, her jinx hit home, and blood erupted from his nose, staining his immaculate green robes, and he looked down, shocked. She could have killed him right there and then, but she didn't, breathing hard, hair in her eyes. "Get out, Salazar," she managed. "Get out, and never return."

He spat blood onto the floor. "Gladly."

A sharp crack, and he was gone.

 

Helena was sitting in the hall with her doll. She could hear the rain outside, and then Rowena crying in the kitchen, Helga's soft murmurings. She didn't understand what had happened at all, only something about her Uncle Sally. Soundlessly, she stood on her tiptoes and opened the door, shutting it behind her, the rain falling gently on top of her as she went to the emerald cottage. The door was open, looking broken, and she trailed through. "Uncle Sally?" She asked, making her way through. "Hello?"

The door to the bedroom was wide open, and she could see something red staining the cream carpet. Blood. Maybe he was hurt. Her eyes widened. He was gone, maybe hurt, and her mother was crying. She looked down at Belle. "We're going on an adventure," she told her solemnly, making her way back outside. "We're going to find him and bring him back, and then everyone will be happy again."

She began to make her way towards dusk, towards the rain and the dense trees that belonged to the forest.


	37. Chapter 37

"He wouldn't have said that," Helga said, nibbling her lip. "He didn't mean it."

"He did, Helga. He's been.....I honestly think there's something wrong with him."

"Wrong?" She asked.

Tears glittered in Rowena's eyes. There were those who said that Rowena Ravenclaw was made up of ice and arrogance, and Helga had always seen through it. At this present moment she thought she'd never seen anything so fragile. "He couldn't smell anything in amortenia."

Helga exhaled. She hadn't thought that possible. To her, amortenia smelled like summer and Rowena's hair, like Helena and rain. The idea of someone not being able to smell anything was odd, and more than a tiny bit worrying.

Her mind drifted to Helena, playing alone in her room, unsure of what had happened and she sighed. "I'm going to check on Helena."

Rowena nodded, and she stood from the table, making her way to her bedroom. "Helena? Helena, are-"

She broke off as she opened the door to see an empty room. Panic built in her as her eyes swept the room. Her doll wasn't on her bed, she noticed, more panic swirling. Of course, there was the small idea that she was playing hide and seek, which she did sometimes without warning, but usually you could hear her giggle.

"Helena?" She said again, checking under the bed. Nothing. She practically ran back to the kitchen, where Rowena was, and managed "She's not in her room."

"Not in her room?" Rowena asked, looking out at the window at the completely dark sky, the rain that was lashing down. "Where else would she be?"

"I don't know-"

Quick as a wink, she cast a location charm. "She's not on the grounds, Rowena, she's not on the grounds!"

A ridiculous thought swirled through her head, that she had run after Salazar, but that.....that was....

They ran through the lashing rain to Godric and Faye. Godric was pale, his eyes suspiciously red. "Gone?" He echoed. "I haven't.....I haven't seen her since dinner."

It was Faye who snapped them out of their panic, tossing Godric his cloak and tugging her own on impatiently. "Come on. She has to be either in Hogsmeade or the forest, right?"

"Right," Rowena gasped, her face drained of all colour.

"Faye and I will take the forest," Godric said. "Nothing will hurt her if I'm there. You two take Hogsmeade."

They disapparated with large cracks, and Helga turned to Rowena, panic taking her over. "Rowena, what if she - if she-"

She couldn't gather the thought properly, the fear of what was in the forest too great. "She'll be fine, Helga," Rowena said, taking her hand.

She sounded like she was trying to reassure them both, and before Helga could reply, she disapparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

Rain dripped down her collar and pasted her hair to her head, and she whirled.

There was nobody foolish enough to be outside in this downpour, and it wasn't the kind of rain that she loved. It was the violent rain that forced your head down and made you so cold your teeth started chattering. Neither of them thought, in their panic, about an umbrella, barely talking as they moved forward as one. "It's my fault, Helga," Rowena said eventually, breaking the silence. "If anything has happened to her - I -"

This was Rowena all over, blaming herself for anything that happened. "It's not you," Helga managed, her hand growing slippery in the rain, clutching it tighter. "She'll be safe and sound - maybe she's with Penny -"

Brightened by this new idea, they made their way towards her house. At one stage, Helga thought she heard a child cry, and whirled, heart in her mouth and brandishing her wand. The light emitting from it illuminated a ginger cat, its fur sopping wet, its eyes shining brightly. Normally, Helga would have worried for it, out alone on a night such as this, but she couldn't process anything apart from Helena. The cat hissed at the light and hopped down from the windowsill and off into the night, and Helga stared after it, feeling like all hope was drained from her.

Just as they turned, there was a whoosing noise, and then something silver ran, as fast as lightning, stopping in front of them as Rowena gasped "Faye."

The silver lioness opened her mouth, and Faye's voice came from within. "Helena safe, we have her. Talk back at castle."

The lioness dispersed in silver flecks, and then the tears fell properly as Rowena threw her arms around her neck and whispered "She's safe, Helga. Safe."

 

Back at the castle, Godric was sitting in front of the fire with a child wrapped in enough blankets to sink a ship. A curly black head wrestled its way out of the cocoon to exclaim "Mama, I was up in the tree and the centaur saw me, but he didn't hurt me-"

Helga didn't look like she processed any of it as she wept, catching her in her arms and attacking her with kisses. "Don't - you - ever - do - that - again!"

"I was looking for Uncle Sally," she said in protest, and Rowena wanted to cry. "Where was she?" She whispered, sitting beside the fire, her wet clothes sticking to her but not caring.

"Up a tree," Godric said, smiling wanly at her. "Very clever, too. I don't like to think what would have happened if she stayed on the ground."

Helena managed to emerge from Helga's embrace to say proudly "There was twig people in the tree, Mother, and I was scared but they just played with my hair."

"Bowtruckles," Faye informed her.

"Yes, and then a centaur went under me, and he looked up at me, but he didn't do anything."

Rowena thought about every story she'd ever heard about centaurs and what they did to human girls and she felt sick. Perhaps that had been Godric's friend, Marius. But then something dawned on her. "How on earth did you climb a tree?"

At this, Helena looked very proud of herself. "I just thought that I'd like to get up there and it happened."

The four adults stared at her, open mouthed.

"Well," Godric said eventually, exhaling. If he had been himself, perhaps he would have made a joke. There seemed to be a Salazar - shaped hole in the room, and nothing could fill it. Bile rose in her throat as she thought of him of the awful things they had said to each other, and how much she hated herself for being taking in by him. She looked at Helga, Helena in her arms, berating her for running off, and wondered why she could never be as good a mother as her.   
Helga smoothed her damp curly hair and said, "So don't go running off again, do you hear me, Lena Beana?"

The nickname meant she had recovered from the shock, and Helena gave a big smile. "I promise."

"Are you hungry?" Rowena asked finally, and Helena gave a small nod.

Rowena could have simply called Bellona or any other house elf, but instead she went to find her, a lump growing in her throat.

 

Faye went to bed, and Helena fell asleep. Helga didn't want to put her to bed just yet, and sat with her, staring into the fire for so long her vision went blurry.

Godric spoke after a moment, green eyes full of something she could barely decipher.

"I never thought he....I thought....."

The other two understood without asking what he was saying. Helga hurt, hurt so much that she didn't think she could ever heal. It was as if by his leaving he had plunged a sword into her chest. Foolishly, she had thought they would remain friends, thought that Hogwarts would stay united. Now she saw that perhaps he had never seen them as his friends, that perhaps it had all been foolish thinking. Rowena spoke, after a minute, and her voice was hesitant. "I've been....I've been debating whether to tell you something. Salazar knew, he knew because he understood my prophecy-"

"What is it?" Helga whispered, looking up at her pale face.

"People," she said finally. "An army, come to destroy the school, for a reason I know not. And I said - I said-"

"Yes?" Godric asked, his voice urgent.

She closed her eyes slightly. "What's pure always wins."

There was a shocked silence.

"But that-" Helga managed. "Why would anyone attack us?"

"You know why, Helga," Godric spoke, understanding. "Purebloods are not liking the way we include muggleborns, you know that well. And now...." He swallowed. "If Salazar tells them about you and Rowena....."

It felt like somebody had emptied a bucket of ice down her back. "He wouldn't, would he?"

"I don't know," Rowena answered. "I know not the workings of his mind. But, Helga, don't you see-"

"Helena," she whispered, understanding, feeling tears prick the corner of her eyes at the thought of what they might do to her.

Rowena gave a tiny little nod, and she managed "We can use wards, can't we? Block portkeys, apparation-"

"Of course we can. But Helga, you know as well as I - It is impossible to avoid fate."

This sounded exactly like the sort of vague, mumbo jumbo bullshit she was always talking about. For once, just once, Helga wanted a straight answer, and she said. "Rowena. Answer me, yes or no. Are they going to come?"

Tiny hesitation, so small anyone who didn't know her would miss it. "No."

"Don't _lie_ to me, Rowena!" Her raised voice made them both jump, and Helena murmur something in sleep, so she forced herself to lower it. "I may the youngest of us," she said, voice shaking. "But I am not a child, and a fool neither, and I am tired of people keeping things from me. So tell me the bloody truth, because so help me, I will curse you for it!"

"Yes," she whispered, looking rather amazed at her outburst.

Helga exhaled, then shakily slid beside her, her shoulder brushing hers.

Godric was the first to speak, a small smile spreading across his face. "Wow, Helga."

"Yes, well," she sniffed, feeling rather guilty. "I'm tired of everyone underestimating me."

"What do we do now?" Rowena whispered, watching the fire.

"What we always meant to do," Godric answered. "We teach, and we protect."


	38. Chapter 38

They stood in a circle, each at a different point of the courtyard, pretending they didn't notice the empty fourth spot. Rowena spoke first, in Scottish, her wand raised. "I will protect, with everything I have, I will protect this castle. I will protect the students, past, present and future, and I will protect my daughter, my...." She swallowed, unsure what word to use. "I will protect Helga, if it is the last thing I do."

Blue sparked from her wand at both sides, hanging in the air, waiting for its companions. "I will protect the students I have taught," Godric said, in English, voice strong, "I will protect my wife, my home and my school. I will protect my friends."

Scarlet sparked from his wand, joining the blue, swirling around together.

Helga stepped forward, face determined, blonde curls tumbling down her back over her brown cloak, eyes steely. She spoke in Welsh. "I will protect the students I love as though they are my own. I will protect my daughter, my friends, and my......my lover."

Rowena almost choked. "Lover" seemed such a.....a casual term for what they were, which was why she had held off on using it herself. "Lover" made it sound like they met up the occasional Saturday for casual sex.

Golden light burst from her wand, and the three hovered as though waiting for the missing emerald. After a moment, they flew into the air as one, the eagle, the badger and the lion, creating, just for a moment, a large colourful dome over the grounds, forest and lake. A dome to keep out the snake, a dome to keep out anything else that might attempt to break it. They stood for a moment, exhilarated by power, but still grave about what they had had to do. Then Godric turned, and walked back to the castle, boots crunching through frozen grass, and Rowena turned to Helga, who was still watching the few remaining scraps of magic, drifting to earth. "It had to be done," she said gently.

"I know," she said simply, then looked at her hand. She was wearing the Slytherin ring. "Why are you still wearing it?" She asked in apparent confusion.

"Because it's not his," Rowena answered, wrapping her in a hug. "It's yours and mine, nothing to do with him."

Helga buried her head in her shoulder and whispered "I'm glad you're here, Rowena."

"Of course I'm here," she whispered in return. "Where else would I be?"

"You could have gone with him."

"Oh Helga, I would never."

The cold morning wind whistled through the trees, thawing the frozen grass and biting their cheeks. Helga surfaced after a moment, wiping away what looked suspiciously like tears. "Helena will be up soon. Let's go in."

*******

_January, Scotland, 994 AD_

When the students returned, Godric, in his speech, told them shortly that Salazar had gone pursing a different career, and nobody raised many questions. Katherine and Erasmus could clearly see how much it had affected the three, and so their questions were limited. Rowena didn't think, somehow, that many of them would miss him. That made a change. Often, she found she missed his blunt answers, or chess games, or funny comments, rude as he could be. The dungeons remained dark and locked, and they couldn't bring themselves to hire another Professor, mostly because of Salazar, and also because Rowena and Helga both knew they would have to pretend again, and their relationship was fragile enough as it was.

Instead, the potions classes became classes wherein Godric created something new he called "The Duelling Club." He never said out loud why he was teaching them these different defensive spells and jinxes, but they knew.

January had always been Rowena's least favourite month, miserable and depressing, filled with cold and frost. But this time round it was almost unbearable. His birthday passed without anyone commenting on it, and it was a night near February that Helga whispered "You're going to be thirty next month."

"I know," she replied, her voice betraying no emotion. "And you'll be thirty come April."

"It's just....odd. What age were your parents when they died?"

She thought for a moment "Twenty two and forty one."

"It's odd that I used to think of ages like that old, and now they seem rather young."

"Godric has grey hair," she whispered in return, a small smile on her face. It was only a few small streaks, and he had laughed them off.

"I know," Helga sighed. "They're marks of ageing and passing time."

"When did you get so philosophical?" Rowena asked, humour in her voice.

"Hmm, I don't know. I'm just thinking."

"I'm cold," she said after a minute, rather hopefully.

"Come here, then."

"Helga," Rowena whispered again, as she enveloped her in her arms.

"Yes?"

"I'm so glad that you're here."

It was only a few hours later that Rowena was dragged out of sleep by a small figure standing at the doorway, staring sleepily in at her. "Helena," she whispered. "That's really odd."

"I can't sleep."

"Then come in here then," she laughed sleepily. "Don't just stand there."

"I was listening to the sky, Mother, but there's no rain."

"No," she agreed, pulling back the duvet. "There's no rain."

Helena climbed into the bed and then whispered "Is Uncle Sally coming back?"

Rowena hesitated. "I don't think so, darling."

"Oh. Doesn't he like us anymore?"

"I don't know," she answered, feeling a lump in her throat, when she wanted to answer No.

"Is he alright, because he was bleeding."

"That was because he had a nose bleed."

"Uncle Godric sometimes has nosebleeds."

"Yes he does. And now it's time to sleep, Helena, or you won't be awake for the village tomorrow."

"Uncle Godric says I'm like an eagle."

"Go to sleep, then, little eagle, and stop talking."

"I like talking."

"I know that," she laughed. "Some children are shy, you know."

"Mother," she said again, for some reason reaching out her arm and looking at it in the dim. "Yes?"

"Don't I have a real uncle?"

The smile slid from her face. "Yes."

"What's his name?"

"Roderick," she said, almost unwillingly.

"Oh. Morgan's uncle brings her presents when he visits."

There was a small, hopeful pause. "Will my Uncle Roderick bring me presents?"

"I don't think so," she said shortly.

More like a torch and a mob.

"Go to sleep, Helena."

There was a pause so long she thought she'd fallen asleep until "Don't you like Uncle Roderick?"

"Not really. And please stop calling him your uncle."

Helena sounded confused. "Why?"

"Just do," she said, pulling the duvet around her shoulders.

"Did he do bad things?"

"No," she lied. "Go to sleep."

This time, Helena listened, and it was only then Rowena realised that she could no longer hear the deep breaths that meant Helga was asleep.


	39. Chapter 39

They were in bed the next night when she brought it up. It was dark, and she knew Rowena liked it better to talk in darkness. Seeing emotion in people's faces scared her off slightly. "Rowena?" She asked, and Rowena gave a sleepy little sigh and whispered "Yes?"

Helga turned her head slightly so she could see the outline of her long body, illuminated in the slight moonlight sliding through the curtain. "I heard you talking to Helena last night."

"Mm," she said, and then there was a pause, and Helga wondered if she'd fallen asleep until she said "There are a few things I haven't told you, Helga."

She felt ridiculously hurt at this, although she knew Rowena was entitled to privacy.

"It's just...." She sighed, and trailed her fingers across Rowena's palm. "We've been together nearly ten years, and I'm only finding all of this stuff out now."

"I did have a life before you, Helga."

This stung ever so slightly, along with a torrent of guilt. For Helga, whose life had been drudgery from ages seventeen to twenty, sometimes she forgot. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and then Rowena's fingers curled around her own. "Roderick was not a very kind brother," she said eventually. "I imagine it was because we were apart so much, as he was so much older, and away in England. He never much took to having a sibling, I think, used to being an only child, and he just developed something against me."

"What did he do?" Helga whispered, and her mind was on the very worst.

"He never.....you know, nothing like that. He was just......violent. Jealous, impulsive. Whenever I heard he was coming, I locked myself in my bedroom, or in the library."

Helga thought of how close she and her sister had been as children, and regretted Rowena had not had the same. "He used to play these games with me. He'd say he wanted to see how long I could hold my breath in the fountain, and if I refused he'd tell Father, and of course he'd take his side."

"And that's why you're scared of water," Helga whispered, remembering something she had said several years before.

"Yes. I used to be terrified of him, and I was so glad when he married Rosetta, as it meant he wouldn't be coming home anymore."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tracing the little lines of her fingers.

Rowena gave a sleepy laugh. "Once again, Helga, it wasn't your fault. I've long since forgiven him."

"But you're still scared of him."

There was a pause. "Maybe. I don't know. We never really had the chance to bond as siblings. Perhaps he truly is a nice person, and not a weak alcoholic spoilt brat."

Helga would normally scold her for saying such a thing about someone, but this time she thought it justified. The thought of holding a child as young as Helena down in a fountain for so long she almost drowned was horrifying.

"Rowena," she whispered again, after a few minutes. "Ro, have you heard from him lately?"

"Not in years," she replied. "And hopefully that is how it will stay."

"I'm sorry for going out about myself so much."

Rowena sounded surprised, sitting up slightly and looking across at her. "Going on about yourself?"

"All the time, about my sister and Wales, and not giving a thought to how you feel-"

"Helga," Rowena interuppted, leaning forward, clasping both of her hands tightly. "You're talking pure shit, now. Please don't be anxious about what you say or do. We love you just the same."

"I do feel like I talk too much, and I can't help it, because-"

Rowena leaned forward and pressed her lips to hers, shutting her up. "Helga," she whispered, sitting back, a small smile on her face. "Never change."

 

Rowena often found her mind drifting, at times such as this when her brain was idle. The only noise in the room was the scratching of quills on parchment, occasional sniffs or coughs, worried looks up at the clock to see what time they had left in the test. She found herself wondering, without quite meaning to, anout Salazar. She wondered if he had returned home to Ireland, or stayed in Scotland. Anger, guilt, hurt, fear and hatred all swirled in her gut as she thought of him. They had built Hogwarts together, stone by stone, pouring bits of themselves into it, and whether they liked it or not, his magic was still in the walls. If she was completely honest, she was not enitrely sure if the wards would hold against him, or if Hogwarts would recognise its old friend, and allow him entrance. To distract herself, she picked up a quill and began to correct some third year essays, but her heart was not in it. It was not until she meant to write "salamandar" but instead wrote "Salazar" that she slashed a line through the offending word and gave up.

********

_  
February, Scotland, 994 AD_

 

Rowena was awoken from slumber on the day of her birthday to a small lump that jumped onto the bed and made her terrified. "Do be careful," she said, exhaling once she realised it was Helena. "I made a card for you!" Helena said, handing it to her, face excited.

It was dark blue, with flashing stars and  a big misshapen heart on the front, the words "Happy Burthday Mother" in large blue letters. She raised an eyebrow. "That's certainly a creative way to spell it."

Helga tutted. "Rowena, the child is four years old. Leave her."

She opened the card, and then saw a painted picture of people.  The first to catch her eye were two women, one with long blonde curls down to her waist and the other with black hair and large blue circles for eyes. In the middle, holding each of the figure's hands, was a small stick figure with curly black hair and a large red smile. Slightly more to the left was a large bear like creature with flame red hair, and a woman with bright blue hair and purple eyes. And then, the last person, the one that made tears mist in her eyes. Right under the words "I LUV YOU, MOTHER" there was a figure in green, with black hair.

"That's Uncle Sally," Helena said helpfully. "He's holding the sign up."

Tears began to drip down her cheeks, both delight at the lovely message and sadness at the drawings. Helena's smile faded. "Don't you like it, Mother?"

"Of course I do," she wept. "Come here."

She grabbed her in a tight hug, and sobbed into her curly hair.

"I can't breathe," came the muffled voice from around her chest, and she sniffled and let her go. "It's lovely, Helena."

She smiled with delight, and then Helga said gently "Do you want to go to breakfast?"

She nodded.

 

At breakfast, Godric, as if the day wasn't depressing enough, made streamers that said "30" hang over the staff table. "Really, Godric!" She huffed, waving her wand so they disappeared.

"Embarrassed about your age?" He asked, biting into a slice of toast.

"Hardly. I just don't want it broadcast."

"Right. Well, like it or not, you're one of us oldies now. Faye and Helga are the only remaining young ones."

"Not for long," Faye said, nodding at Helga, and she laughed. Rowena wondered why ageing affected her so much when Helga could just laugh it off so. It wasn't ageing in particular, she thought, it was just the idea that time was slipping through her fingers as quickly as sand, and Helena was shooting up before her very eyes. The signs of aging were everywhere - new little laughter lines around Godric's eyes, students who had been children in their first year - The Gryffindor twins, and Helga's niece Catrin, among others - now young men and women. It made her want to cry. "Are you alright?" Helga asked her, and she nodded.

"How long is it until your thirtieth?" She heard her ask Faye, and Faye laugh as she replied "Not for two years yet."

"I must bake a cake for you later," Helga told Rowena, eyes twinkling, and Rowena wanted nothing more than to reply that she didn't want a cake, all she wanted was to crawl under her blankets and never come out again.


	40. Chapter 40

_March, Scotland, 994 AD_

 

Rowena couldn't distinguish the scenes happening in front of her eyes. Flashes of noise - screaming, glass shattering, and the crash of galloping hooves - filled her ears, along with the bitter tang of blood. Hogwarts in flames, - giants laying waste to it, scarlet eyes - no, grey - a man with a long beard tumbling from a tower, as easily as if he had been a ragdoll, people in hoods, people in masks, people yelling something triumphant, the shooting of something emerald into the sky-

"Rowena, Rowena, please wake up, please-"

Helga's choked voice reached her ears, and she realised she was lying on the tiled floor of the kitchen in the cottage, the back of her head throbbing. For a moment, Helga's face blurred, her eyes appearing vivid scarlet before everything returned to normal and her eyes were brown and panicked. She raised her hand dazedly to the back of her head, and felt a small bruised bump.

"Let me," Helga whispered, and then, "Episkey."

The throbbing stopped, and the lump faded as Rowena asked "What-"

"The third," she said, checking the back of her head for any other injuires, hands shaking slightly. "The third prophecy, I know it was."

"Did I say anything?"

"Scarlet descended from grey."

This made as little sense to her as it seemed to Helga.

Helga was apparently sick of prophecies, but still asked her what she had seen fruitlessly, Rowena shaking her head. When Helga had finished her checking, she lay back down on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

"Are you going to get up?" Helga asked gently.

"No."

She didn't feel like getting up at all, staring up at the white ceiling.

Helga lay down on the floor beside her, blonde curls spilling into black hair, and Rowena said "Your hair will get dirty."

"So? I can wash it."

They both stared at the white ceiling until it felt like it had burned itself into Rowena's eyelids. "It's quite boring," she said eventually.

"It's a ceiling. What did you expect?"

"It's too white."

There was a pause. "I'm sorry."

She turned her head slightly, feeling soft curls against her cheek, Helga's face a hair's breath from her own. "Why so? You can't help the colour of the ceiling."

She laughed slightly, but then it stopped. "I mean the - the prophecy."

"Oh. That's not your fault either."

She sighed. "I know."

Rowena had been thinking this for a while, panic slowly growing inside her, and now the words slid out of her lips in a whisper. "Helga, are you getting tired of this?"

She turned her head so her eyes were looking into Rowena's, brown into blue. "The prophecies," she whispered. "Not you. Never you."

"I'm sorry I'm putting all that pressure on you."

These days, it seemed like their lives were a constant reflection of the same two words:

 _I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry_.

She could smell Helga, her perfume of jasmine, the underlying scent of earth and magic. She could just about see the fourteen little perfect freckles, seven either side of her nose. She could see her beautiful brown eyes, each sparkling in her memory, but not now. And if she closed her eyes, she could just about taste her. The space between her hand, lying on the cool floor, and Helga's, by her side, seemed huge. She wished she could have enough courage to reach for it. "Do you think Salazar is happy away from us?"

"I don't care," Rowena replied, meaning of course she did, she cared with every ounce of herself, and Helga knew it. But it still hurt, the things he had said, and if she was honest they had made her think. She was miserably confused, horrified, and, if she was completely honest, if she ever let herself think it, there was a tiny part of her wondering if she should have accepted his offer, should have gone with him.

********

_May, Scotland, 994 AD_

 

The world seemed ominous, as though something bad were bound to happen soon. Something Helga had noticed was that while Helena had loved her doll beforehand, since Salazar had left, Belle never seemed out of her presence. Even when she was in the bathroom, Belle would be sitting outside waiting for her. She worried somewhat that she was too attached to her, but Rowena told her there were far greater things to worry about. They were sitting in the staffroom with Katherine, as Faye and Godric came in. They looked positively bursting with news, delighted. Godric's cheeks looked as though they were burst from his gigantic grin, and Faye's hair was bright pink, her smile wide.

"We have something to tell you," Godric said, and they sat.

Helga held her breath, sure of what was coming. Curiously, Rowena seemed to have stiffened.

"What is it?" She asked carefully.

"I'm pregnant!" Faye said, not able to contain the news anymore, and Helga squealed with delight, grabbing her in a hug. "Oh Faye, that's wonderful!"

Katherine hugged her then, unable to stop smiling. "Do you know when you're due?"

"January," she said, cheeks pink, and eyes swirling with green. Godric was grinning, but there was one person not celebrating; Rowena was sitting looking as though she'd just heard the worst news of the century.

"Rowena?" Helga asked, letting go of Faye. "Isn't it brilliant?"

Rowena's response was to stand and leave the room, and Godric's grin faded as the women stared after her.

 

"Rowena - Rowena, wait-" Helga was breathless, and stopped as Rowena did so. She didn't turn, her back straight. "Rowena, what's wrong?"

She turned slowly, and her eyes were full of something she didn't understand. "Do you know what kind of world this child will be born into? Do you know what's going to happen, Helga?"

She couldn't believe this. "But Rowena - a child will be the light in the darkness, so to speak. Aren't you happy for Godric?"

"No," she said flatly, then turned and walked away. Helga stared after her, the sunlight in her eyes, feeling, as she sometimes did, that she didn't know her at all.

 

She was sitting with Helena, who was reading aloud in the sun as Faye came over to her bench, sunhat on her head, atop hair that was now a dark brown. She gave a small smile as she sat the other side of Helena. "Helena," Helga said, carefully. "Why don't you go and pick some flowers?"

Helena shut her book, and her face brightened. "Can you make a daisy chain for me, Mama?"

She laughed. "Of course. But I'll need big ones, alright? And at least twenty."

"Twen-ty," Helena said carefully. "That's the one after nineteen, isn't it Mama?"

"Clever girl. Now, go!"

Helena ran off, laughing, and Faye stared after her wistfully. "Rowena?" She asked, turning back. Helga sighed. "Oh, don't mind her. She gets in these moods sometimes."

"It's not the - the thing that she sees coming?" Faye asked, worry flickering across her face.

"Well....yes, but Faye, you have to know that there is never any date on these things. It could be tomorrow, it could be a thousand years in the future. Don't worry."

Faye placed a hand on her stomach, which was still as flat as ever. "It'll be fine."

"Have you thought about names?" Helga asked, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Or is it too early?"

Faye bit her lip, but was unable to keep her smile away. "Alright," she said finally. "We weren't going to tell anyone, but she's going to be a girl."

A smile spread across Helga's face. "A little Gryffindor."

"Indeed."

"Mama, look!"

Helena came running back with an armload of daises, and Helga sat her up on her lap and began to thread them together as she watched.

"Don't worry about Rowena," she said, looking up at Faye. "She'll come round."

"Rowena is Mother's name," Helena said conversationally, and Helga laughed and said, "It is indeed."


	41. Chapter 41

_June, Scotland, 994 AD_

Helena looked as though she were bursting with excitement. "I'm going to have a cousin?"

"Yes," Helga smiled at her. Rowena was in her office again, sulking, and Helga had decided to leave her. If she had decided to be this childish, let her. "If it's a girl, she can be like my little sister, and I can teach her all the things I know!"

"Yes," Godric laughed, pulling her into a hug. "And I know you're going to be the best big sister ever."

Over her head, he mouthed at Helga "Rowena?"

She shook her head. "Don't ask."

 

Helena was in the toilet, singing loudly in French. Helga understood little of the language, but thought it sounded rather rude. Her suspicion proved correct as Faye's mouth twitched, coming through the door. "I'm going to kill Godric," she announced.

"What does it mean?" Helga asked, finding herself smiling despite herself, looking up from the essays she was correcting.

She sat across from her, crossing her legs. "You don't want to know."

"Rowena in her office?" She asked, rather lightly, but her eyes betrayed the seriousness of the question. "Yes," Helga said, looking back down at the stack of parchment.

The name at the top seemed to say Rowena, but as she looked closer it actually said Ramona. Gah. Couldn't parents find better names for their children? Ones that didn't remind her of the woman who was hurting her more and more each day?

There was the sound of the tap being turned on, water briefly splashing and then the door opened. "Faye!" Helena said, delighted, and practically ran over to her. "Is Baby in your tummy?"

"Yes," Faye told her, and placed her small hand on her stomach, which swelled very, very slightly. "How did it get in there?"

Faye and Helga exchanged a Look.

"Magic," Faye told her.

"I was in Mother's tummy, though."

This conversation was going on for too long. "Here," Faye said, smiling at her. "I actually came to see you, little miss."

"Me? Why?"

"We've got baby nifflers!"

"Did they come out of Annabelle's tummy, too?" Helena asked, as Faye stood.

"Yes. Now, do you want to come and see?"

 

Rowena apologised, and came out of her study, although her churning anxiety was still inside her, and Helga was distant.

"I'm sorry," she told her, for the millionth time.

"That means nothing anymore," Helga told her, voice muffled by the pillow. "You say that all the time and then you do it again and we're in this vicious circle."

"Helga.....you don't.....you don't want to leave, do you?"

In previous times, when asked this question, Helga would have replied straight away that she would never leave. But now, she hesitated, and it was like a dagger dipped in poison had pierced her heart. There was a silence. The magic that had been a flaring wildfire a few years before was now a dull flickering, a fire about to go out.

"Don't you love me anymore?" Rowena whispered, and even to herself she sounded like a child.

"Of course I love you, Rowena, no matter how much I wish I didn't."

********

_July, Scotland, 994 AD_

 

Rowena felt like she was being crushed into tiny little pieces. She didn't know what to do. She didn't. As she often did, she cursed the Sight with everything in her. Paranoia was growing and friendships were drifting and Salazar was in her head and - Stop.

Poetry had been her friend since she had been a child, but she could no longer write it, waiting for words that remained lodged in her throat. She despised with everything in her, the way she had acted, but she was so terrified of what might happen that she preferred to stay far away from people, only coming out for the occasional meal, or, at Helga's insistence, to sleep or wash She wasn't surprised to find, as the weather grew hot, that she was beginning to think of suicide again. It was horrible, and she hated every little thought that zoomed through her head, but she couldn't stop it. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that Helga and Helena would be better off without her. They would be better off not worrying about things she wasn't strong enough to keep to herself. It had always seemed to Rowena that she had been born without something everybody else possessed. Whenever things grew tough in life she refused to talk to people and locked herself up with books, and she knew that wasn't healthy but there was no other avenue her mind wanted to explore. Helga speaking to her, that first day on the moor, had been the first human contact she had had in three days. If she could just talk, just speak like a normal person, then perhaps everything would have been fine. But it wasn't, and it didn't, and no matter how many times Helga, Godric or Faye bombarded her with questions, she couldn't answer them. The way Helena looked at her these days, as though she were scared of her, was enough to make her want a dark hole to open under her feet and suck her into it.

 

She was sitting outside on a bench, watching the lake. She wondered if she jumped in it, would the merpeople push her out, or would she drown? Probably the former. The idea of dying terrified her because she had no idea where she would go. Christians believed in Heaven and Hell, but she believed in nothingness, and she wanted that blank so badly. She wanted to stop feeling angry, stop feeling guilty every time she hurt someone, stop having these bloody awful moods that came and went as often as the rain. The thought of going to Heaven, however, or indeed Hell, was that she would still be her, and that was the problem. Every time she looked in the mirror she wanted to claw her eyes out. There were heavy footsteps, and then a creak as somebody sat on the bench. She didn't even have to look to see who it was. For the first time, she regretted what close friends they were. She wished, just once, that everybody would leave her alone.

"Rowena," Godric said slowly, and the slight summer breeze shifted her hair. She didn't reply. She had enough of hearing her own voice.

He didn't say anything else, just put his arm around her and drew her into his side. It was oddly comforting. His robes were soft and she buried her head in his shoulder, beginning to cry. He didn't say anything, just held her as she wept, until finally the tears were all dried up.

 

She was making everybody miserable. She saw it whenever she went to meals, the one occasion wherein she saw everybody together. She felt horrible for doing this to Faye, when she was pregnant. But the horrible gaping hole inside of her was too much, and this was when she decided to do it. Lately, she had taken to sleeping in her study, only managing a few light hours at a time.

She reached for the parchment and quill, barely thinking about what she was doing. Words, which had always served her well, abandoned her as she stared at the creamy surface. First, she wrote two names, one after the other. Helga and Helena.

She paused. There were so many words running through her, so many words she wished would pour out of her quill in an inky torrent, writing for her. But she couldn't summon them, not even after thinking about them for months. In the end, she wrote three simple words. I love you.

There was a balcony on the seventh floor, just beside where Helga's charm classroom was, in a disused room. The journey from the balcony to the ground, was, she estimated, enough to break every bone in her body. She felt horrible for the poor bastard who would find her mangled remains. Perhaps she should have chosen drowning, but of course she was far too selfish and cowardly for that. She climbed, slowly, onto the stone railing, her hair in its messy plait blowing in the wind, and she looked down. Jump. She would barely feel it. A few seconds, and it would all be over. But still she hesitated, and a fresh wave of hatred for herself swept over her. She didn't even have the bravery to take herself out of her daughter's life. Helena would be far better off without her, and she knew it. She screwed her eyes shut, felt the wind on her face. Jump, you coward. She felt like she was waiting, but for what she didn't know. Perhaps it was someone to stop her, someone to appear below her and cry out that they could fix her, that there was a magical potion that could turn her into somebody else, somebody who enjoyed life and didn't feel guilty for every breath of air that passed through their lungs. There was knocking on the door of the room, loud, quick and rapid, four knocks, and she exhaled sharply. "Rowena?" Godric's voice, panicked.

She wasn't going to answer. She was going to jump, and then-

"Rowena! I found your letter, what are you doing?"

She didn't - couldn't - reply. Jumpjumpjumpjump-

There was a crash, the door burst open, and strong arms were wrapped around her waist.

Rowena clawed at his hands, sobbing. "Let me go, Godric, please-"

"What about Helena?" He asked, three simple words, making her go limp, sobbing so hard her chest heaved. "She has Helga."

"And Helga? How do you think she'd feel without you?"

She could see the sky from here, the night sky she had been about to jump towards, the hard ground that would have welcomed her. "Godric, stop, I just want it to stop, make it stop, please......"

His grip on her slackened, but she made no attempt to move towards the edge. "I'm so tired, Godric," she whispered.

He lifted her up and carried her to the couch, tucking the blanket around her as if she were a child, as if she were Helena (nonostopitpleasepleaseplease). She heard the creak of the chair as he settled himself into it, the sound of the doors shutting and locking. "I'm staying here, Rowena."

She didn't reply, already sinking into the world of shadowy monsters and screaming.


	42. Chapter 42

She thought she felt fingers brushing back her hair gently, a light kiss to her forehead. She opened her eyes blearily, and for a moment her mind was perfectly and thankfully blank, before everything fell down on her with a thud. Brown eyes were looking into her own, brown eyes that were deep with love, concern and pain.

"Oh _Rowena_ ," Helga whispered, and Rowena saw she was in her nightgown, her feet bare, face pale in the moonlight. Her hair was in a long golden plait, and an occasional curl escaped. She opened her arms, and Rowena fell into them, sobbing on her shoulder.

Helga began to cry, too, her shoulders shaking. "Rowena, I don't think - I don't think I could - I was so terrified when Godric said....."

She was unable to string words together properly, her sobs drowning her words. She smelled like Helga, like sleep, jasmine and earth, and everything Rowena had ever needed.

They lay down together, and Helga pushed loose hair out of Rowena's face gently. "Why were you going to do it?" She asked quietly, her voice careful.

"I'm making everyone so miserable," she whispered. "Dragging everyone down like I always do. I thought - I thought I was safe with you, but I'm not, because I'm destroying everything, like I used to do."

She felt a warm tear trail down her nose.

"Everyone's a little bit down because of Salazar," Helga replied quietly. "Because of what he said, and worrying about what you've seen-"

This was the wrong thing to say. "Exactly. I shouldn't have told anyone."

"Rowena, please. Without you, I couldn't survive this, I really couldn't. Helena and Hogwarts and and you are like the strong points in life, and you make it worth living. Don't you want to live?"

"No," she admitted, beginning to cry again, guilt overtaking her. "I don't deserve to live, because of what happened to my mother, and what I do, and-"

She was rambling now, and Helga whispered "None of that was or is your fault."

It seemed to crash down on her then. Helga was lying close to her, her curls loose and spilling over her shoulder, brown eyes large and concerned, so concerned for her that it made her chest contract, because she didn't deserve it, she didn't.......

"Oh Rowena," Helga whispered, so much emotion poured into those two words that it almost physically hurt.

"I don't understand," she whispered through her tears. "I don't understand how you can still love me, how can you love this."

"Rowena, shut up," she murmured. "I love you. Why can't you just.....?"

Rowena buried her head in her shoulder, crying again. "I don't know."

 

Helga was asleep now, after what felt like hours of talking, and all of Rowena's tear ducts felt empty. Her head was on Helga's shoulder, and Rowena could feel her warmth radiating from under her nightgown, warming her too. She gave a little sighing noise and shifted ever so slightly whispering "Rowena."

Rowena looked up, wondering if she were awake, but it seemed she was talking in her sleep, as she did sometimes. "You have to....."

She trailed off, and Rowena wondered what the end of the sentence would have been.

"Darling," she breathed, her eyes still closed, her breathing still heavy, clearly asleep.

"Helga?" Rowena whispered, worried she was having a nightmare by the look on her face. Helga seemed to be in a sleepy daze as she opened her eyes, not properly asleep, but not awake. "Rowena, I have to take care of you."

Rowena blinked. "You can do that in the morning," she replied in a whisper, sitting up slightly so she could see her face properly in the dim light. "Go back to sleep."

"What about you?" She mumbled.

"I'll be fine. I'm with you."

She closed her eyes again, seemingly falling back to sleep, and Rowena laid her head beside hers again, drifting into dreamless slumber.

 

When Helga woke, Rowena was still asleep, and sun streamed in through the glass doors, illuminating her face. She thought of the first time she had seen that face in sleep, almost ten years before. Rowena's face was now more lined, more tired, but she still loved her as much as she had then. She knew, somewhere inside herself, that this could happen again, as it often did in that circle. But one difference was that Rowena had not said sorry. Instead, she had shown it. Helga didn't like to think of what might have happened had Godric not found her letter, the letter with the three words in swirled black letters; I love you.

It made her feel breathless with fear to think of life without Rowena, to think of attempting to explain to Helena that her mother had jumped to her death. She hated how she had acted, too, in the past few months, possibly piling stress on Rowena until she saw no other option than to leave them forever. Their magic was dim, but maybe with time it could learn to be bright again. She didn't want to leave Rowena, but she had to wake Helena for breakfast. Slowly, not wanting to wake her, she got up off the extended couch, and went to the cottage, bare feet warm along the path. Katherine was asleep in the makeshift guest room, as she had been minding her, and now Helga padded into her daughter's room and whispered gently. "It's time to get up."

Helena opened her eyes groggily, a light sleeper just like Helga, and whispered "Why is Katherine here, Mama?"

She must have been awake the night before, woken by the panic.

"Mother was ill," Helga replied, sitting on the bed with a slight creak, pushing her hair off her forehead, her hand lingering. "But she's alright now."

"I don't like Mother anymore," Helena whispered, and this made Helga's heart feel like it was breaking in two. "Don't say such things, Helena."

"She's not nice anymore. She won't play with me or tell me stories and she just stays in her office."

Helga bit her lip, trying to find the best explanation. "Mother's head is very sick, Helena."

Her forehead crinkled in confusion. "Does her head need to take medicine?"

"Yes darling," Helga replied, having done research into this kind of thing. But she also knew that if Rowena wasn't happy, there was no way to make her so, not even if she force fed her Elixir To Induce Euphoria every hour.

"But then she'll be fixed?" Helena asked hopefully, twisting her fingers through her doll's hair.

"I hope so, Helena. I really do."

Helena must have sensed her underlying feelings, because she threw her small arms around her waist. "I'm giving you a hug, Mama, to make you feel better."

"Thank you, darling," She whispered, feeling tears prick her eyes.

"Do you think I should give Mother a hug, too?"

"Yes," she smiled, wiping her eyes so Helena wouldn't see her tears and then pulling back. "But first it's time to get dressed for breakfast."


	44. Chapter 44

_September_ , _Scotland, 994 AD_

 

Really, Helga thought, they were a very progressive school. The staff and students were rather close, exchanging jokes, while still commanding respect. It was so unlike the small village school she had attended occasionally as a child. Faye was heard to cheerfully ask the students if they had any idea for baby names, and the students had given their own favourites.

If Helga had said anything like that to her (admittedly male, middle aged teacher) she would have been caned so hard she couldn't sit down for a week. It was a very nice and close companionship they had, while still commanding respect as their teachers. She passed Rowena as the students filed into the hall for dinner a few days into term "Miss Crossan, I am astounded as to how you haven't caught frostbite yet. Please lower your skirt before I do it for you."

A smile rose to her lips. The old Rowena was back. There were rumours passed down from the older students to the younger, that Rowena's husband had abandoned her, Helga knew, but nobody ever dared to say it in front of her. Helga reached out and touched her arm in a way she hoped looked companionable and friendly. "How were your classes?"

"Fine," she said, reaching for the stew. "Apart from a child telling me I looked like a crow. He soon learned not to."

Helga laughed, putting her hands to her mouth. "Oh goodness - Rowena, don't be so cruel."

"Well, he won't do it again," she said, shooting daggers at the Slytherin table. There was, perhaps, a faint air of distrustfulness around that table now. The other three houses clumped together in groups, while Slytherin seemed cast out on its own. She sighed inwardly. "You do have a look of a crow about you, I've always thought," Godric said, mischief twinkling in his eye. "The same kind of haughty stance."

"Godric, I would shut up if I were you, before you were swinging from the chandelier."

This was just like old times, harmless banter passed between them, and Helga was so, so happy it was back.

********

 _October_ , _Scotland_ , _994_ _AD_

 

There was a disturbance in the Ravenclaw common room, Rowena saw. Being that it was three in the morning and what looked like the entire Ravenclaw house were gathered in the common room, she was concerned. She made her way to the common room, running into one of the elder Ravenclaws on the stairs to the tower. "Michael," she said, frowning. "Whatever is the matter?"

He looked out of breath. "Knocking, Professor," he managed.

Her frown deepened. "Knocking?"

She strode ahead of him, up the swirling staircase and stopped in front of the eagle. "I don't have eyes, but once I did see. Once I had thoughts, but now I'm white and empty. What am I?"

"A skull," she said impatiently, and the door swung open. Students were gathered in the airy common room, still in their nightclothes, the majority looking worried.

"What's this I hear about knocking?"

"On the door, Professor," Velma said.

She sighed with impatience. "What door, dear girl?"

"The door to the library."

She frowned and strode forward, to the silver door of the library. She opened it, revealing nothing but shelves of books, lit by torchlight. Nothing happened, even when she closed it again, and knocked.

"What are you wasting my time for?" She asked irritably.

"Professor-"

It was then she heard it, three very distinct knocks, coming from the other side of the door, slowly and purposefully. She stared.

"It started ten minutes ago," Velma told her. "And there are approximately three minutes thirty two seconds between each time."

They waited with bated breath in silence, Rowena counting every second that passed by. At exactly three minutes and thirty two seconds, it happened again. Thud, thud, thud, something familiar she couldn't quite place.

She cast a charm to reveal any presence on the other side of the door. Nothing. She opened it again, tentatively, but there was nobody on the other side. "Very strange," she said, almost to herself, then turned to the students. "There's nothing to worry about," she said, faking a smile. "Go back to bed."

They went, somewhat distrustfully, and she went back to the door. Waiting, and then it happened once again. She pushed the door to the library open, frustrated at seeing nothing. She examined the other side of the silver door, but nothing doing. It had been a while since she had been in the Ravenclaw library, and she wandered between the stacks, perhaps looking for someone. She didn't quite know. There was a faint edge of uneasiness to her actions, and yet she had no idea why. The knocking seemed to have stopped; she waited approximately fourteen minutes and three seconds, but nothing.

Frowning, she left the library and the common room, and slid back into bed beside Helga who said sleepily "What is it?"

"Somebody knocking on the library door."

"Knocking?" She asked, sitting up and lighting her wand, sleepiness gone. "One of the students?"

"No," she said. "It's odd. Every three minutes and thirty two seconds, three slow knocks on the door. There's nobody in the library, and no trace of a concealment charm."

Helga frowned. "That's very strange," she said finally. "Did you check everything?"

"Yes," she said, pulling the blankets up. "I could see nothing worrying."

"Perhaps it's just a silly practical joke," Helga suggested.

"If it is, I'll wring the little bastard's neck."

"Rowena!" Helga laughed. "Don't say such things."

She paused. "Are you feeling alright?"

Helga had taken to asking her this a lot. It always felt odd, presumably because she had never been used to somebody actually being concerned for her. She sighed and said "Um......I'm alright. Not brilliant, but not terrible."

Helga took her hand in her own and said "Relax, Rowena. There's no law that says you have to be happy all the time. Just be."

She smiled at her in return, slowly rubbing her hand. "I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you, Helga."

"Oh get away out of that!" She scoffed. "You would have done perfectly fine."

"I wouldn't have. I'm not strong like you, Helga."

"I'm not strong. Not like Godric."

Rowena sighed. "Well - Godric is strong in all meanings of the word, but I think you are the strongest in the real way. You're the glue that holds us together, Helga. Without you, I think we would have fallen apart when Salazar left. I'm not sure we would have even gotten that far. Godric and Salazar might have killed each other."

This was the one, tiny plus of Salazar being gone; there were no horrible fights, no tension that made Helena cry.

"Well," Rowena said again with a small sigh. "I don't have any of those serious prophecies left."

She'd written what she could remember from them, along with what she had said, in a book. She hated dragging up the memories again, but perhaps they would be useful, even when she was long gone.

 

No more was heard of the knocking, though it remained a priority in Rowena's mind. It was very strange and more than a tiny bit worrying. Rowena hated problems she couldn't solve. No matter how many spells were cast, how many times Godric checked the doorframe and Helga checked with her charms, they could see no reason why there would be knocking, and it was driving her quite insane. If it turned out, as Helga had said, to be some stupid practical joke, she would absolutely kill the perpetrator.

But the smallest, tiniest reason there would be knocking, the one she had hardly dared to believe turned out to be the correct one.


	45. Chapter 45

_All Hallow's Eve, Scotland, 994 AD_

 

They were in the hall, having their feast, and Rowena stiffened suddenly.

Helga wondered for a split second what was wrong, but then she felt it herself; a sort of assault on her magic, a shiver travelling through her. Something wrong with Hogwarts. Godric, too, seemed to feel it, and Faye looked at them. "What is it?" She asked, puzzled.

Rowena threw down her napkin, and said in a rush "Faye - take Helena and go - go anywhere- out of Hogwarts."

"But-"

"Now!" She half snarled, and Helga didn't worry about manners or being polite, because the feeling inside her was like a great wave of wrongness, like something was happening to Hogwarts, someone was attacking their home.

The students looked mystified, and this snapped Helga out of it. "Rowena - the students! We can't - we can't ask them to die for us!"

"I'll move them," Godric said quickly, standing, brandishing his wand. "Your room, Helga, it can make a passage out, right?"

"Right," she half gasped. Katherine and Erasmus looked mystified, and Godric set about explaining as quickly as he could while leading the students towards the room. "Helena," Helga said quickly, and the child was so frightened she burst into tears. "What's happening, Mama?"

Helga thought about the people that were surely upstairs, and what they were doing to Hogwarts. "Nothing, darling," she soothed. "Just go with Faye, alright? And we'll see you later."

"But why?"

Helga didn't answer, kissing her forehead, trying to put as much luck and protection into it as she could. Faye still looked confused, her hair turning blue, but grasped the little girl's hand without hesitation. "Will the rest of you be alright?"

"Yes Faye," Rowena said impatiently. "Worry about your baby."

She nodded, and then as quick as a flash was gone after Godric.

Rowena was gone in a flash of blue, and Helga followed her up towards Ravenclaw Tower. Hogwarts had always seemed, to her, like a living being, and right now it looked like it was in pain. The torches on the walls were dim and the stone walls looked harsh.

"It's the knocking," Rowena said as they walked quickly up the stairs.

"It's - it's him, isn't it Rowena?" She asked breathlessly, not as fit as her but still keeping in step. Rowena knew without her saying who she meant, and she replied, something in her voice "I don't know, Helga, I really don't-"

They stopped in front of the eagle, who said "I-"

"No time!" Rowena snarled, and if a bronze eagle could pale, it did so, and swung open without further comment. The common room was empty, but it felt, somehow, that people had been in it far more recently than the students who had left it an hour before.

It was silent, the only noise whistling wind outside, and they moved slowly, wands outstretched. "They could have left already, couldn't they?" Helga whispered, although she was not sure why. She had not been in this common room much, and to her it seemed like a majestic place. It seemed somehow colder than her own common room, however. "I don't think so," Rowena replied, and Helga saw that her hand shook ever so slightly.

Helga's wand arm was her left, and so she could touch Rowena's free hand with her own in slight comfort. They split up coming towards the library, because each knew the other would be able to take care of herself if she ran into trouble. Helga went towards the dorms, Rowena continuing into the large library. Helga was worrying about Helena, about how frightened she must be, wondering if Faye had gotten her out. She worried for Faye, too, and the baby in her stomach. She worried for every student that had passed through these walls, because if this assailant was who she thought, then none of them were safe.

She was in the empty girl's dormitory now. Things like hairbrushes, robes and half empty trunks were strewn around, along with makeup and hair ties. The whistling wind outside was louder here, and she wondered absentmindedly how the students could sleep. The peace was shattered, suddenly and loudly, by a scream. She had never really heard Rowena scream before, certainly not in fear. It was wrong and horrible, and made her stomach lurch.

"Rowena!" She yelled, forgetting in her panic that what had made her scream would, perhaps, be waiting just for that. She practically ran into the library, and the door slammed shut behind her, but she barely noticed. "Rowena?" She said, her breathing ragged with fear. In here was much darker than it had been outside, and Rowena was nowhere in sight.

She turned to the door, discovering it was locked. "Alohomora."

Nothing happened, and as more unease built in her, she was sure there was somebody behind her. Her worry for Rowena caused her to lower her guard, and so she turned. Immediately, something as quick as a viper shot out at her, chains wrapping around her wrists and ankles as she struggled, wand hitting the stone floor. She couldn't feel her magic anymore. For the first time in her life, her veins were drained of magic, and panic, pure undiluted panic, washed over her. There was a man standing by the book stacks, torchlight illuminating his tall stance, tossing his wand casually. He had black hair, shot through with silver, and familiar clever blue eyes that were dancing cruelly.

Rowena was at his feet, crumpled as though a rag doll, metal cuffs around her own wrists.

"Let her go," Helga spat, struggling in her own restraints. "Before I curse you."

"I do not think there is any chance of that," he said, and gave her a little kick that caused Helga to lash out once again. "My sister is quite comatose."

"You - your-"

She couldn't speak with fury and fear, but just as she managed to get those two words out there was a curt, familiar voice from between the stacks. "Ravenclaw. You've had your fun. Now stop."

As though he were a dog and Salazar his master, Roderick obeyed, but scowled as he moved aside, the tall, thin figue of Salazar Slytherin coming into view.

"Salazar," Helga breathed, fury and hurt and fear and so many other emotions she couldn't distinguish rising up in her. Of course it was Salazar - Salazar could get past the magic, Salazar was almost as clever as Rowena, Salazar had been testing with knocks-

Her thoughts were jumbled and frightened, and all she wanted to do was see if Rowena was unhurt, and as if he had heard her thoughts Salazar said, with something like a smirk "She's quite alright. She'll wake up with a headache, perhaps, but that will be it."

"M-my magic, what have you done to my magic?"

"Those-" he pointed to the chains. "Are some very clever inventions, if I may say so myself. They dampen magic."

"Why did you come back here?" She half whispered, so hurt by his familiar voice, the voice that had laughed with them and joked with them so many times. "Just for some clever quips and to show off your inventions?"

"Hardly. This school is under unsuitable supervision. A madman, and two, well women-"

His voice almost poured scorn on the word, as though trying to show that they were anything but. "Cannot be expected to run a suitable establishment, and you haven't."

"This is our home. This was your home for seven years."

His eyes were cold. "And I regret nothing more."

Somebody else spoke from the now open door, someone she couldn't see because the chains were forcing her to kneel on the hard floor, making movement impossible. "My lord, the metamorphagus is gone."

Helga felt a wave of relief at these words, so large she could hardly breathe. Helena was safe. "Gone?" He snapped, voice impatient. "Very well."

"She had a child with her. Perhaps it was-"

"You were mistaken," he said, voice crisp. "There is no child."

Helga felt a quiet gasp escape her lips. Why was he protecting Helena? Was there some, tiny, long forgotten feeling in that heart of his? The male voice at the door sounded confused as he said "But my lord-"

"There is no child!" He snapped, and she almost felt the temperature of the room drop. "Yes my lord, so sorry my lord-'

The man left, and Salazar exhaled before he bent and picked up her wand, twirling it in his fingers. Usually, she would have been able to feel her connection to the wand, but now it was simply a stick. She didn't expect what happened next at all; he snapped it in two even halves. Tears bloomed in her eyes. "You bastard - you bastard-"

She remembered her father toiling to make it for her, whittling wood and buying unicorn hair, although he could scarcely afford it.

Salazar turned, throwing the pieces over his shoulder, where they fell to the ground. "Do as you like with her, Ravenclaw," he said, his voice almost bored. "I am finished."

Panic raged in her at being left alone in the library, with no magic and wrapped in chains, left to the mercy of Rowena's brother. It was clear what he wanted her to do, but she wouldn't do it. Helga would never beg.

A look of almost pride crossed his face before he left the room, echoing footsteps disappearing through the silver door, it closing behind him.

Roderick reappeared, still twirling his wand.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" Helga asked, voice shaking, the bravery she had dragged up gone, her knees pained, chains scraping off the soft skin of her neck as she tried to move her head.

He looked at her for a moment, and then disgust crossed his face. "You think I would touch you? You're scum, mudblood, and so is my sister in associating with you."

"Please don't hurt her," she half whispered, and he laughed cruelly. "Indeed," he breathed, eyes bright with malicious pleasure. "I always knew my sister was sick, but this? This is a whole new level. You deserve to be burned, both of you."

"And you?" She asked. "I know what you did to her as children, your sick power games, making her beg-"

"Crucio!"

Every muscle in her body screamed with pain, and her vision blurred. She couldn't stop a scream escaping her lips, screaming louder than she ever had in her life, feeling like she was going to explode from pain when-

He lifted his wand, and she gasped, her bones aching, tears streaming down her cheeks, hair falling into her face. "Coward," she managed, spitting out blood onto the stone floor. "You coward-"

And again, the most terrible pain she had ever experienced, amped up in power from the last time and for longer, red hot coals, then flames licking her, searing her skin, melting her insides-

"That's what you'll get," he snarled, smile gone and eyes deep with something so like insanity it terrified her. "You'll be burned at the stake you _sapphic_ , _disgusting_ -"

"Call me all you want," she said, and because she knew it would infuriate him further, and keep him away from what he clearly wanted to do, torture Rowena, she curved her cracked lips into a painful, bloody smile, and he started again.


	46. Chapter 46

Rowena was lost in black. Her eyes ached and her head pained her as though someone was hitting it repeatedly with a hammer. She cracked her eyes open, and dim light hit them, nevertheless stinging. With a jolt, she realised that somebody was screaming. Helga. She was screaming as Rowena had never heard anybody scream before, so full of pain that it ripped through her head and destroyed her heart. "He- Helga?"

The words came out in a hoarse whisper through dry lips, and nobody seemed to hear her. Somebody was standing in front of her, and she could only see his back, clad in a dark cloak. _Roderick_. The memory of her own hesitation to curse her own brother, and he using it to do just the same infuriated her. She slowly dragged herself up, black spots dancing in front of her eyes as she felt something metal scrape painfully at her right wrist. Her eyes were tired, but they focused to see a long chain wrapped around both of her wrists. "Alo- alohomora," she whispered, but nothing happened, and it was only then she realised she could feel no magic. The magic that was built into the walls of Hogwarts was buzzing around her always, and her own magic could clearly be felt, always, but there was none. She reached for her wand, lying beside her, pointed it at the chains at an angle that was comfortable and whispered desperately, still hearing Helga scream, wanting to do anything she could to help her "Alohomora."

Nothing. Quickly and rashfully, she made a rather stupid decision, but one that shot into her head and she grasped it. "RODERICK!" She yelled, her voice hoarse and scraping her throat.

He turned, shock on his features, and Helga stopped screaming and instead lapsed into loud shaking sobs that echoed around the library. Rowena had always viewed libraries as her safe place, her haven, but she wasn't sure if she ever would again. "Sister," he said, apparent delight appearing on his face. "It's nice to see you awoken."

Her head still spun, but she lashed out, chains painfully dragging her back, chafing her skin and dragging off stone. "Not so fast," he said mockingly, flicking his wand, her head forced to lift so she was looking him straight in the face. She hoped that her eyes conveyed just how much hatred she had for him. "You," he said, shaking his head and then laughing. "Oh sister, it's been....well, I would say hilarious, but not for you, I suppose. I always knew you were sick, as I told my new friend here-"

He flicked his wand so that Helga shot forward, chains lengthening, dragging off the floor, so close that Rowena could have touched her. The sight of her made Rowena's heart lurch, and she cried out as she saw blood on her face, and then almost puked at the large slit on her face.

She was almost unconscious, whimpering and shivering.

"But this is a new level, it really is-"

"You sick fucker-" she lunged for him, forgetting her chains, which of course dragged her back and he laughed again. "If only Lord Slytherin were here," he said, wistfulness in his voice. "And he could see what I have done."

She stared at him, wide eyed, hardly believing what she was hearing.

"What you've done, Roderick, is torture a woman who could not defend herself. What you've done is torture the woman I love, and fey help you, Roderick, you better start running when I am free."

She was breathing hard, hardly able to look at Helga.

His mouth thinned. "I think, perhaps," he said slowly. "That you need a reminder of my rules, sister."

"It has been a long time since I was frightened of you. How important are you to your Lord?" She poured scorn on the word. "He has left you here to guard two women who are in chains. Don't you think that's very, well, insulting?"

She thought he would torture her again, saw his wand arm twitch, but then he murmured as though it were a mantra "He's going to reward me."

She laughed, a pained, harsh laugh that showed there was nothing funny at all. "Is that has he told you? There have been many like him, Roderick, and many more to come. And you? Well there are millions of you. Tell me, what does Rosetta think of this little excursion?"

"She doesn't understand. She doesn't see that we need to destroy the mudbloods."

"Really? Because I think it's more jealously, isn't it, that you haven't got that power over me anymore-"

The door to the library opened in her blurred periphery vision. "Ravenclaw."

The speaker's voice held amusement. "He left you here with two women?"

"I've taken care of them," Roderick said quickly, looking up.

"Come, then."

Roderick clearly did not like being told what to do by this new speaker, but he obeyed. He spat at Rowena before he left. It landed on her shoulder, and she forced herself not to flinch or break eye contact until they both left. She looked at Helga for the first time, and began to sob. Blood and yellowish pus covered the left side of her face, but not enough as she could see the slit in skin. It looked not simply a wound, but a carefully carved one, the beginnings of a letter. Muscle and flesh were torn, and she saw the white flash of bone, making her feel sick. Gently, she lifted her head into her lap, the new silence seeming unnatural. "Oh Helga, my Helga...." She whispered, seeing her blood matted curls, her black eye and bruised face, presumably from hitting it off the floor. "What has he done to you?"

She was still barely conscious, and her bloodstained fingers fluttered weakly at Rowena's face. "Hurts, Ro," she whispered, and it sounded like it pained her to speak.

"I know, love," she managed. "But I - I can't do anything, I'm sorry. My magic is gone."

"It's t-the.....the c-chains."

"Tha chains? That's what's holding back magic?" She looked at the metal chains around her wrists, and then Helga's which crisscrossed her whole body. "It must be a charm...."

Which meant there was a spell to disarm them, as there was to every charm.

Helga's fingers drifted to hers, and she noticed missing fingernails for the first time, presumably from whatever curse Roderick had placed on her.

"Y-you're h-hurt."

"Don't worry about me, Helga," she whispered, a tear dripping onto her face. "Please."

Helga breathed deeply, and didn't speak again.

"Helga?"

She was unconscious, Rowena thought, and this made her feel horribly lonely, and worried, because she had read about comatose patients never waking up after certain curses. But she was still breathing, albeit shallowly, and she took this as cold comfort as she went to examine the cuffs that were tight around her wrists. The only sounds she could hear was the whistling wind and their breathing, her own panicked, quick breaths and Helga's slow ones.

There was no noise of any fighting, no dueling, or no battle. Helena rose to her mind quickly, but she forced the thought down. It was all she could do to hope she had gotten out, and for now she was focusing on Helga.

There was no clear way she could find to unlock the cuffs without magic. "No...." she whispered, dropping them onto the floor with a small clash.

It was now that she took her very last option. Hogwarts had always been almost a sentient being, brought to life by magic, and she whispered "Help us. Please."

She felt ridiculous after uttering those words, and she slumped as nothing happened. But then there was a smooth sliding noise, and a passage appeared in the stone wall. For a moment, she stared, breathless, no idea how she was supposed to go down it with her wrists tied to a bracket on the floor. But then the floor began to shift, and the metal bracket - impossibly - broke clean in two. A loud metal snap from the other side of the room told her Helga's had done the same. The cuffs were still on her wrists, and so her wand was useless, but she still pocketed it, still lifted Helga, despite her weight, despite the fact that she was hurting her back, and began to inch down the steps of the passage.


End file.
